


Petal Allegiance

by fish_wifey



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Courtship, Drinking, Explicit Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Multiple Sex Positions, Political Alliances, Princes & Princesses, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rimming, Rough Sex, Royalty, Sexual Content, Strangers to Lovers, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:48:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 112,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26387443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fish_wifey/pseuds/fish_wifey
Summary: In a now peaceful world, arrangements between royal families tend to be made for political and economical gain. The Flower nations and royal lines of the world create even fewer of such bonds. It's therefore all the more exciting and rare when one such flower realm offers their youngest son up for marriage to another royal line.Tatsuki is the youngest son of the Tulip house, and doesn't have anything to offer to this all-male kingdom.Akinori is the only son of the Chrysanthemum line, where women rule and boys tend to be free-spirited and just less important.But the families are clear on one thing; they will not arrange the marriage. The union should be based on mutual understanding and perhaps a budding love.As the ones seeking the courtship, the Washio men travel from their mountains to the valley ruled by the Konoha family.
Relationships: Konoha Akinori/Washio Tatsuki
Comments: 47
Kudos: 39





	1. Come to court, those who dare

**Author's Note:**

> washikono nation, I came to feed yall.
> 
> I thought up this very simple idea and baby plot in one night. Didn’t write it down, and only knew the vibe I wanted to go for.  
> One Sunday I was watching The Crown again on Netflix, and I just, had to write it down for real. I spit out so many words in one night, decided to have both povs because I love that shit www Afterwards I just kept writing so much for it, until it became a monster. When I gave to my beta it was already 80k large, and then during editing...there was just so much I wanted to add to this world. There's family OCs based on my love for Tatsuki having older brothers only, and Akinori being raised by females for the most part. But good god there's animals, divine creatures. I thought up so much lore and history and traditions. Their romance is a whirlwind and it was so fun to write it all~~
> 
> Thank you Nana for reading and editing this at the speed of light. I am so grateful for everything!
> 
> And thank you to all the people who left comments on my washikono fics. You guys inspire me to keep on writing for this wonderful pair. I really went all out for them on this in a small fantasy epic~ I loved writing the palace and the court and the surroundings. Akinori&Tatsuki banter, the back and forth, the mild pining... I really love this world build and their romance in it, and I hope so will you.
> 
> Please enjoy!! Even if you don't want to comment, even an emoji or keysmashes from anons make me happy TT

The dark brown eagle doesn’t fly in without notice. Without making a sound from the beak, its wings beat hard and fast. It receives the attention of several townspeople in the valleys in the lower parts of the country. From the fields and the rivers, people look up in awe. ‘The mountains’, they whisper. ‘News from the mountains’. 

Whispering the name of the king to whom this magnificent bird belongs, the valley below watches the bird’s flight, towards the palace. The bird passes over the high white-washed gates of Chrysanthensia, the high-city of the royal family. It passes over roofs, a black shadow on the city mostly in white. Not once does it make a sound, and far below, everyone whispers in awe at the sight. Some are scared the news the bird brings bodes no good for their city. Others don’t assume war is on the rise, but one could never know. 

Making a straight line up to the palace, the citizens of Chrysanthensia watch two large banners with the flag of their country spread. A window opens, sliding up. Only birds from royal families could enter this easily into the innermost holy walls of their Queendom.

Within the palace, a perch is brought just in time for the bird to land. Only then does its beak open, as a loud heralding eagle-scream echoes in the halls. Late in the afternoon, it disrupts tea-sessions and battle practice, hair braiding and flower crown creations. The sisters of the household all rush out or away from their preoccupations, to enter the throne room. Their mother is already on her feet, taking regal steps towards the perch.

They watch the bird who watches the woman, the queen holds out her hand.

The eagle lifts its taloned leg outwards. No guard was allowed to touch the letter bound there, so the queen of the Chrysanthemum line takes the letter. The bird looks up, squawks, and then gazes elsewhere, not returning whence it came. The large window closes, the banners once more in place, casting dim prismatic colours over the eagle.

The guards stand aside, a boy already sent to bring food and drink for the mountain eagle. For only one man in all the realms had a bird like this, and from the mountain range to the east, it was a far way from home.

The two youngest daughters of the Chrysanthemum line stand away from their mother, as only the oldest and second oldest in line dare forward. When their mother turns to them, the expressions on her face is not one any of them has ever seen.

“Fetch Akinori, I need to speak to him immediately.”

*

*

Tongue sticking out, legs crossed, Akinori has put himself alone. Just the grass beneath him, and the heavy scent of flowers all around him. For once he isn’t busying himself with braiding one of his sisters’ hairdos, or helping another create flower crowns. He also hasn’t been at the practice grounds for quite a while, as the boys he felt were worth impressing were sent to their border duty. At his knee is a cup of tea, but he’s not sharing a pot with anyone. Instead, Akinori folds paper into a little fox. Smiling, he appreciates his own wit of following simple instructions. The eyeless fox has paws and a tail, a little nose. 

Taking a sip of his tea, Akinori nods to himself. “Right.” 

His little creation was almost too pretty to burn. He could give it to his youngest sister as a gift instead. Looking through the gaps of flowers arching over him, Akinori stares up to white clouds spreading across the light blue sky. The wind blows once, yet not hard enough to move the white fluffy entities above any faster. Akinori closes his eyes.

“Goddess, Vixen, strongest protector of these lands. In your name we burn, in your name we rise. Accept this humble gift of your servant, forever loyal to the holy line of Chrysanthemum. Blessed are your daughters, as your fearless blood reigns in their veins. You have filled the void, letting them do as they please and follow their fancies. Allow their lives to be long and filled with plenty. My only wish for you is, to bless the farms of this country that you look over, especially the fruit farms.”

Akinori presses his little folded fox to his lips, then passes the paper into a black, sleek bowl in front of him. He strikes a match, and carefully lays in on top of the fox. The paper is specially made for prayers and sacrifices, to speed up wish-granting and be heard by their goddess. Akinori watches with a smile as the embers soon rise up. The fox never blackens; the sparks spring up golden. When the fox curls up within the flames, its little head rises up. Two golden eyes blink into existence, and then out, as the paper burst into flames.

“Well, that’s my good deed done for this fortnight,” Akinori smiles, finishing his tea. A little private prayer for his people, may they bring him only the best of the berries and stone fruit harvests this year.

Getting up to stretch his arms, Akinori closes his eyes momentarily. His older sisters would reprimand him for starting sacrificial fires in the royal gardens. Akinori didn’t like the official rooms for it, much too stuffy. Plus, Akinori was a firm believer in the fact that, for the goddess to hear his prayers, open air and a good amount of chrysanthemum flowers were needed. The royal gardens match the need for both. One of the floral architects has created a beautiful archway, a plus-sign in the middle of which Akinori prays.

Getting out, he waves a servant close, to bring the tea-set he used during this little outing away. From the stone steps, more than a servant comes. One of Akinori’s sisters bolts out, past, running up to him. Alarm on her face translates to alarm in Akinori’s heart.

He doesn’t waste a second when she tells him to meet with their mother.

*

*

“It is—and always will be—up to you. This is just a proposal. A meeting would do us good in any case! However, it wouldn’t be polite to invite them if you’re not the least bit interested,” his mother—Queen Konoha Shichishoku explains, her lengthy talks chirpy and uplifting. Akinori stares down at the royal note in his hands, written by a King. He’s never held a note like this in his lifetime. Sons of their house weren’t exactly meant for political or military advances. Sure, Akinori has basic education in everything, but he’s never excelled at just one thing, or become known for something. He wasn’t meant to be.

His thumb runs over the crests. A blood red tulip, surrounded by grey and black. The royal sign of the line of Tulips—’house’ they call it over there. A kingdom in the mountain ranges. Black and grey as they were, the tulips that grew there were the most beautiful in all the world. They had a long life for flowers, and were used in healing potions to grant long life to whoever consumed them too.

Akinori’s eyes stay on that last line, the ending of the letter. ‘May your line live long, may your queenship last long, and may the bond we could forge surpass it all.’ Taking a steadying breath, Akinori lifts his eyes from the letter, up to his parents. The work room of his mother was void of guards, servants, and most strange of all, not one of Akinori’s sisters were here. Just him and his parents. His father, King Aglais remains silent as his wife continues to speak.

“You haven’t met their youngest son, I’m afraid. Tatsuki was away on a battle mission across the mountain range. You know how the bandits would try to sneak up the mountains. Well, he’s returned recently, a hero to his people. And still, the younger sons in the Tulip family don’t get as much credit or appreciation as the oldest one would. King Washio doesn’t choose the matches for his sons, but he has to approve them. Most of his brothers were married off already. One never knows if there’s true love in the house of another, or if the arranged marriages are just political gain. Still, I wouldn’t give my only son away for just that. I want you to know this, Akinori. Despite our ways, our beliefs and how we govern...you are special and important to me.”

His mother takes a deep breath, looking relieved to have said her piece. Feeling tears prick his eyes, Akinori can hardly believe the words his mother just spoke. His father smiles at him, while his mother continues.

“Akinori, you’re my child. As much as my first born daughter and future queen, your happiness matters to me, and naturally to your father and sisters. The Kitsune god gave you to me, and a blessing to the lands. Whoever thinks they can have you, well! They first have to prove their worth. Not just to me or to our line, but to you. Again, I want you to know this, to really understand: you have the last word, and are under no obligation to accept anything. And perhaps Washio’s boy… if you don’t even want to meet him, I will politely reject the marriage proposal.”

Looking back at the letter, Akinori lifts it to his parents.

“It’s not exactly a marriage proposal in our terms, mother,” he smiles, acting a lot more confident than he feels. So he has a chance after all. Akinori believed for years he’d settle for a nobleman, some hot guy he’d meet at a royal party. Mayhaps some foreigner from a far-away land, whose country and customs wouldn’t be as close-minded as the one distant neighbour. Between the Queendom of Chrysanthemum and the Kingdom of Tulips were many other royal families and regentdoms. A ‘visit’ wasn’t just going to be a one-day affair. It would be a grand thing, something exciting, in his honour. For his hand. An actual prince from another royal line served to him on a silver platter…They did say that all of Washio’s line from this age were tall and handsome. Dark hair colour and dark eyes. Stoic, maybe. Mysterious…well, that was just all the more the fun in it.

Akinori grins, looking forward to the prospect of royal events. The planning of grandeur, another royal family visiting their palace for more than just idle pleasantries. All for him. He might not get another chance like this, to be the center of attention. To have an entire royal family come here for him. 

“Let's invite them. At least I want to look at their youngest son. No one can expect as much as ‘maybe’ from me without a dinner party first.” Akinori smiles, watching his father stifle a laugh and his mother’s lips purse as she tries to remain her regal posture. 

“I will be sure to word it in a way that King Washio will know the terms. A meeting first, then, we will see.” His mother looks pleased though, and Akinori knows he’s done her proud. He stands up, handing the letter back to her. Akinori extends a small bow to his parents. They let their son grow wild and free, and even if sons were less important in their line, Akinori has never felt less loved by these two people. 

Outside he’s immediately harassed, his hair ruffled. His sisters get the information they want out of him. “You little blooming sinner you!” All siblings walk the halls, take the stairs, and end up in the throne room, to look at the majestic eagle that came from so far away. Akinori, having an arm of his two older sisters on both sides, marvels at the bird. He thinks of the king, and the king’s youngest son.

A possible marriage candidate for him.

*

*

The wind’s ominous howl and the faraway rumbles of thunder soothe Tatsuki’s own stormy mind. Standing at the small window of his room, he peers over the grey and black mountains on the other side of the ravine. He picks out the goats hopping from one vertical to another, forever chewing on the bits of grass they find there. To the left, the ravine stretches out, the mountains opening up to a far distant horizon. Flat lands as far as the eyes can see.

Tatsuki stands at this window without much else to do. He sits down in a chair sometimes, reading and writing. His servant brings him food and drink. Self-imposed isolation from the court was common among the younger sons of the king, as each preferred the four walls of their rooms and the welcoming silence of solitude, over the busy war room, where their voices weren’t important.

Sighing deeply, Tatsuki’s mind once more barrels down that long winding road of the same thought; he knows his father loves him. Tatsuki knows he loves his father, his country. He would do anything to serve it well. Going to fight raiders on the other side of the mountain, keeping the realms to the east safe, Tatsuki revelled in the knowledge that years of training settled in a heartbeat. Victory for him, and more importantly, to the Washio Crown. Each and every son born under that crown was proud to be part of the family, even if after the first son bore his first heir, the rest mattered less and less. 

Making themselves useful was their trade. And Tatsuki’s eyes focus on the horizon, where the answer to his usefulness would come. For days he’s been standing or sitting at the window, wanting to be the first one to see if not to know. Maybe, if the son of the royal house of Chrysanthemum would write directly to him, Barkbeak would be compelled to give Tatsuki the letter first.

Little hope in that. The sons of each house didn’t know each other. Tatsuki’s older brothers met him once, but Tatsuki’s tutors all disallowed them to speak of the golden haired, only son of the city of Chrysanthensia. Tatsuki had been away on another raiders-erasure mission, and word had it that the second daughter of Chrysanthemum had been away too. Sad, given that Tetsuya had wanted to test his strength against hers, as the oldest daughter wasn’t allowed to fight. Strange differences between their countries and customs. Tatsuki’s tutors were eager to name them one day, and have Tatsuki recite it back the next.

Would he fit in that colourful court? They lived with valleys around them, in a city built of white stone. No mountain ranges, and only fields upon fields of flowers and fruits. 

A knock on his door cannot persuade Tatsuki to bring his eyes off that horizon. “Come in,” he says, loud enough to be heard while not facing the door. It opens, and his personal attendants and closest friends come in; he recognizes the clank of Rintarou's double-swords sheathed at his lower back, and Motoya scraping his battle axe to the top of Tatsuki’s door frame. They take in their loyal places at either side, giving in to Tatsuki’s solemn silence.

They don’t last a minute.

“If you refrain here for as long as that eagle is gone, you will miss Onaga getting horned by his own battle goat,” Rintarou says, tapping his third and favourite weapon on the flooring. Tatsuki has felt both ends of the spear in Rintarou's hand. He was deadly with it, and would use it to poke his two friends repeatedly.

“The armour is magnificent. One can only wonder why Onaga thinks adding spikes to the horns of a goat who has attacked him twice is a good idea,” Motoya laughs. Tatsuki can picture it; he’s seen the armourer’s son craft parts of the armour, attaching it to protective and warm leather.

“Onaga’s battle goat will teach him how to evade quick attacks happening in an instant. The small scars he receives now are a protective barrier of knowledge against larger maiming scars he can avoid in the future. Mock him and Lisa’s antics. You will be happy with them at your side when the time comes,” Tatsuki says, always protective of Onaga. Rintarou snorts, never one to take wisdom at face value.

“Hear hear, to Onaga and Lisa the goat. Long may their lives be. Wish we could toast on that, but you’ve been locked up in this room for nearly a week,” Rintarou says, and yet he incites their blessing of a comrade and his animal. Tatsuki would stare him down into an apology, but Rintarou is a friend, and partially right. Also, Barkbeak hasn’t returned, and so Tatsuki doesn’t look away from the horizon.

“Locked up and catching up on 10 years of reading, if this tome’s bookmark is anything to go by,” Motoya says, lifting an ancient divine book. The front displays a kitsune, holding a cup. The book, made here in their city, is black bound as all others. Even so, Tatsuki knows from his lessons that the banner of the house of Chrysanthemum holds every colour of the rainbow and more.

“So, when no one is prone to knock some sense into you, you actually do sit down and enjoy yourself,” Rintarou says, as the copied scripture audibly passes hands behind Tatsuki’s back. He turns his head to them.

“Careful with that. And yes. We all know that aside from war and emergency situations, Barkbeak will find shelter when it rains or the winds are against his favour.” The rumbling of thunder comes closer as Tatsuki speaks, putting weight into his words. When it pours, he will allow himself to sit down. Maybe let a servant bring wine and bread with Rintarou's favourite cheeses. 

“Hear hear,” Rintarou says, unable to flip a page of the heavy tome standing, and gives back the bible to Motoya. Tatsuki sees them look at a page he had put within.

“What’s a ‘chaos-bringer’?” Motoya asks, looking at the handwritten page in Rintarou's hand.

“It’s what the sons are called over there. They’re not born in every generation. But when they come, it’s said that their god is wrathful and sends chaos. From it however blooms opportunity, and it hardly brings harm to the people of the valley. Or so it says,” Tatsuki explains, remembering that it’s a goddess they worship and not a god. “Without official rank or title, I think you two had best call him ‘prince’.”

Rintarou laughs as any man without religion would. His hand forms as if he’s holding a drinking glass, holding it up for a pretend salute. “To the prince then, may he be easy on the eyes and with an accepting disposition. And to Barkbeak’s swift return, may our man Washio Tatsuki not stand at this window forever waiting for him,” Rintarou says, the mirth hiding shallowly in his words. Motoya puts the heavy tome back where he got it from, then reprimands Rintarou . 

Our man. Their choice of words to not use Tatsuki’s official title. He doesn’t hate his rank, nor what it does or doesn’t entail. Still, he appreciates that the words would never leave Rintarou's and Motoya’s mouth outside of announcing Tatsuki’s presence at court. Tatsuki’s eyes return to the horizon, not letting them be swayed again.

At last, he’s rewarded for it.

“There,” he whispers, soft enough not to be heard in case he was mistaken. But Tatsuki’s eyes hardly ever are, and so he watches a spot in the far distance become one with wings beating. Above them, the clouds turn darker. Between there and here, there’s no shelter for the eagle, whose wings beat faster and faster trying to reach his master’s home in time. The thunder rumbles silently, almost as if knowing not to interrupt the eagle’s return. The area has a history of striking down birds, no matter their speed or strength. 

Rintarou gasps.

“There he is, that little fellow. Right, shall we go then?” Rintarou says, patting Tatsuki’s arm. He and Motoya leave as swiftly as they came, the sound of their steel leaving more silently than before. Tatsuki watches as Barkbeak swoops over the empty flat lands, catching possible upwind from behind him. 

It takes a few minutes for the eagle to reach home. As soon as the bird is out of his sight, Tatsuki turns tail, not waiting for the summons of his father. For once, he has a place in the war room, if only to listen how his fate has fallen in place within a grander picture. Passing the halls leading to the royal chambers below, Tatsuki feels one with the shadows, with the stone. This is his home. And leaving it would pain his heart, knowing he might not return for years. And still…a higher purpose. A new outlook on life.

And the promise of a sly fox on the other side of the horizon. Waiting for Tatsuki, and Tatsuki alone.

The war room has been Tatsuki’s favourite place in their cave-palace since he was a small child. Even if no great wars have threatened the realms, the large slab of a table is a thing of beauty. It depicts the entire world, each and every place. At the far end, their mountains were placed. On the other end, the one close to the door through which Tatsuki comes, is the other side, behind them, so to speak. Tatsuki bows his head to the people here. When he enters, all the advisors and servants are requested to leave. Sentries posting in each corner of the room of the room are mutes. They therefore stay, unless a sign of his father makes them leave.

Tatsuki walks past the large map of the world, a table like no other. He used to play with the figures on that map, not understanding as a child that every figure stands for a living thing, or a group of people. Coming to his older brother’s side, Tatsuki finds a hand clasping his shoulder. Takeji, who understands their father’s moods best, never would have to read a letter to know what’s inside. He only needed to see their father read it. Tatsuki’s heart beats a little faster, and he is then beckoned to his father’s side.

On a wooden stick crafted into a T, Barkbeak rests his wings, eyes on Tatsuki as he comes close. King Tetsuya’s eyes peruse over the letter, then folds it. He gives it to Tatsuki.

“The first good news of hopefully much more. Queen Konoha sends her blessed invite to her holy halls. Details, too, requesting how many souls she will be housing, how many carriages we shall need once we have braved the ways down the mountains. It is her wish for us to know that her son agreed to meet you, and would allow courtship for his hand to continue in their realm. Tatsuki, I have implored how important this venture is to us. Alas, I will not force any of my sons into a marriage they wouldn’t be happy in. We shall go, and you can do as you see fit. I will not advise you how to behave at their court, nor the manner in which you present yourself to the Konoha boy.”

And with that, King Tetsuya made sure that Tatsuki knows not to overdo it. To just be himself. And hope that it will be enough.

“I will do my best,” Tatsuki says, because he always will for his house. Leaving the war room, he excuses himself as his older brothers will be put to charge and get everything ready. He just has to intensify his daily lessons, and he doesn’t have to look at the horizon anymore to await his fate. He will chase it himself. Outside, Motoya and Rintarou confront him. They do not ask with their mouths, all the more with their eyes. Tatsuki quickly grabs their arms, leads them down a corridor where they won’t be overhead.

“The royal court of Chrysanthemum awaits. Pack what you need, and let’s not forget the bow and arrows for the trip.”

*

*

The skies change as they first cross their own large empty plains. Beyond lie other nations, to which they are granted freedom of passage due to courtship of houses. The smells change. As soon as they enter the woods and valleys of the Chrysanthemum house, Tatsuki’s heart beats the slightest bit faster. Soon he lays eyes upon the open and beautiful fields of their lands, the house flower most prominent. The scent drifts into the carriage, and Tatsuki cannot stop looking.

In front of him, a tutor rasps his voice.

“They bury their dead under these fields. It is their belief that the Fox goddess’ last wish was that like her body gives to the fields, they should also. To give new life to the flowers of their house. The royal family too is buried in such a fashion. The ‘fields’ may mean where the flower harvests are, but they may as well be burial grounds. They’re sacred either way.”

Tatsuki nods. Their last rites were different. The mountains bore only kings, and every other citizen of their state was offered to the flames. Tatsuki wonders what would happen to him if he dies in another country, what they would do to him. What say he has in it.

The journey isn’t a short one. And yet, when the white city appears in front, Tatsuki’s heart isn’t prepared. Not really, for such a sight he’s never seen. Beside him, Rintarou leans out of the dark stained window, lifting the banner of the Tulip house aside.

“As white as the eye can see, on flat grounds blessed by a goddess. Most of their realm’s citizens in one place, guarded by a high, man-made wall. One couldn’t fashion you a people more different than us,” Rintarou laughs, sitting back.

Motoya, sitting opposite of them, rests his hand on the end of his war-hammer, the head resting on the floor of the carriage. “Exciting though, isn’t it!? We hardly ever get to go elsewhere. There’s so much to learn and see,” he says, nudging the tired old tutor, who doesn’t wake from his nap. Tatsuki is glad he has his friends here. Ahead of him are all his brothers and their servants, the carriage led by the two Tetsuyas, king and prince. The small families of his brothers left behind in their mountain castle.

The young ones wished him luck on his endeavour of courtship. Tatsuki hopes it will be fruitful.

The carriages do not speed up or slow down as they make a small ascend towards the city gates. Tatsuki looks through the dark banner hanging over each side of the carriage. A secret to be kept from the world, to be seen by this court first. His heartbeat throbs louder and harder. This was worse than any battle he’s faced. At least then, he knew what to expect, mostly. 

The castle gates open to let the first of their carriages inside. From the other side, loud cries of joy can be heard. As Tatsuki’s carriage enters he takes a deep breath. Rintarou's fist lands on his shoulder, and neither he nor Motoya say another word.

*

*

Looking around at the white plaster of walls, columns and drapes of feather light tulle, Akinori can’t help but fall in love with his home all over again. The morning light blesses the castle’s throne room, letting its pristine walls and floor shine even brighter. Large floor to ceiling windows bring the natural light, and the tall, all-white room does the rest. It’s grandeur eases Akinori’s heart. This is his home, 22 years he’s roamed these halls, hidden under the throne of his mother, standing high on the steps.

He might not be and never will be king, but he was the prince of these holy halls.

The only prince.

Today, nine ceremonial curtains of tulle cross from entrance to throne, from wall to wall and towards the windows. Akinori draws his eyes from the ceilings empty of frescoes and drawings. He finds his younger sister, 5 years behind him in age, walking up the steps. Her gorgeous mane of blond hair has been tamed into three braids, interwoven together and sweeping over her shoulder as she rushes to him. Her sly eyes twinkle with a knowledge he doesn’t have. Yet.

“32, the last count is,” Fuyuko says, the shine of her smile rivalling the throne rooms. Akinori’s mouth opens in surprise, then he just scoffs.

“32 horse-drawn carriages. How many sons does the king of Tulips have again!?” He says, not allowed to move from his seat where his mother left him. ‘Stay here’, she’d said. And stay here he will, Akinori muses. Nevermind his mother being the queen and the highest ranking family member. Akinori can’t imagine what could happen if he doesn’t listen to his mother. He sure would have loved to be part of the welcoming committee, to watch the youngest son of the line of Tulips step out of the carriage…his prince. 

Taken from his daydream, a sharp noise comes from behind him. Large double doors open for his older sister, 7 years in front of him. Her careful step a tell of its own. She takes her seat next to Akinori, who gives her a funny look.

“Oh, so we do put on red lipstick when 17 sons of the country of Tulips roll into town,” Akinori says, enjoying how Haruka doesn’t dare look him in the eye. She instead looks over her other sibling, not even correcting him on the exaggeration of the son-count. Fuyuko bows forward, whispering ’32 carriages!’ When he receives no reply from Haruka, Akinori continues in a way that he knows will rile her up a little—if only to rid himself of how nervous he feels. “I hope you don’t expect me to fight my own husband-candidate.”

“Say that you jest, brother dearest. Don’t break my heart,” Haruka says, always acting like she was the oldest in the family. Second daughters were special, and she has milked it for as long as Akinori could remember. Other countries might give freedom to their second in line for the throne. The holy line of Chrysanthemum would always burden their second daughters the most; military training first, mastery of the arts included—be it in drawing with a brush or drawing a bow. And Haruka has the arm strength to duel any of their generals, admirals, and brutes down in the dales. If she would deign to humiliate them.

Red was her favourite colour, a colour of war and love. In her case, mostly it was battle makeup.

Akinori scoffs at her, then shakes his head at Fuyuko. “Make sure she will not under any circumstances propose fights to the Tulips sons.”

Haruka looks at him after all. “Am I not to test their strength? If they want to bond with our line, well, surely you should allow me to test each and every of those brothers coming to court. Their merit, their decency, sportsmanship. You’re our only boy, and mayhaps that doesn’t tend to mean much outside this matriarchy, but it does to them.”

Akinori leans his shoulders into the seat, nonchalant in the face of only servants and politicians here at the moment, Busying about.

“The only one who has to be tested is the one intending to marry me. And the one who does the testing— _if_ you don’t mind—will be me, sweetest sister,” Akinori says, winking to Fuyuko, who as the youngest of their clan, has always been his favourite.

“Hearty talk I hear,” his father says. King Aglais enters the throne room with an army of advisors, helpers, servants, and a horse. Akinori smells the horse before he sees it, and his head turns to look at his father’s. Akinori’s father kisses his daughters on their foreheads, then gives his own private wink to Akinori. “Haruka, please do behave yourself with our guests here. The Tulips might be a flower country, but they raise their men like we raise our second daughters. Do not take them lightly, and do not disrespect them.”

Haruka demurs, and Fuyuko takes her seat beside Akinori. King Aglais sits next to Haruka. Their side of the family displays the second in commands of every area. The king, who comes after the queen. The second daughter, always second in line. A son, which is a blessing in every era he is born, but just not as important as the daughters. And the current youngest of the household, who receives the most doting care all around.

If his grandmother would be here, she would have a seat of honour. But she and the other elder sisters were on the other side of the ocean, on a one year royal tour. Akinori wishes his grandmother would be here, but she could be more vexing than Haruka when it came to husband-candidates. In her stead, all of the queen’s sisters have come to court—to silently inspect, judge, and report back to the older dames. Akinori watches the youngest and his favourite aunt wink at him from across the room. They’d keep to themselves mostly, cunning foxes each in their own right.

The horse neighs behind their father, a white mare that blends well in the throne room. The first in command of every area are awaiting the carriages outside. Not just the queen, who has the forthright to meet every visitor personally before allowing them into the halls of their home. With his mother walks Akinori’s oldest sister, Shikika, and his third oldest sister, Natsuko. As Natsuko was the latest of their family to get married, she needs to see the first new expectant candidate to enter their family. 

It’s not the first time Akinori feels doubt at the prospect. He could have said no at any point of the arrangements. The visit was one of the most important times, in which his yes or no would open up trade routes, new military might, and a bond between flower countries unlike any other in the history of their world. And it wasn’t just him who could disagree or agree. The other side’s son had as much say in it as Akinori does.

He turns to Fuyuko, as the trumpets and drums welcome the first carriage outside.

“I still don’t know what to think of a household where women’s voices don’t matter much…” he says, thinking of what the Tulip’s line was most known for. Sons only, all black of hair, with stark facial features. And 2 meters tall, if the rumours were true. Akinori’s mother wasn’t a tiny woman, but she wasn’t 2 meters. Hopefully the other country’s king and his 100 sons wouldn’t intimidate her. 

Fuyuko doesn’t seem the least bit worried about the prospect of an all-male family coming to visit. She looks bright-eyed to the doors in front, currently closing for the grand entrance later. The bustling about is just the final touches of excellence. From the side doors to the left, their court enters, taking their places. Everyone is excited. Each of them walks the length of the throne room to the windows to take a peak. As they take their places, they bow deeply towards the royal family, half of them present and sitting down.

“Akinori, I must ask,” Haruka starts, but Akinori won’t let her finish.

“Yes yes yes, I am aware… he’s the youngest of 6 brothers. First three are already married off with kids. The others engaged or otherwise promised. Naturally, apart from the one thinking him befitting to be my betrothed. Their line secured, the only marriages their house makes is one of mutual alliances that do good for both sides. I know all their names and hobbies and specialities in war,” Akinori gives her a look, hidden behind a sweet smile as the court is present. Haruka returns it. They might as well sharpen knives with those smiles.

The trumpets herald the newcomers as they enter the palace. The secret code to the throne room lets them know at all times how far the procession of guests is being led into their holy halls. Akinori feels his heart beat wildly against his chest. He’s nervous after all.

“Court of Chrysanthemum, dear guests, esteemed loyals to our holy line,” the voice of the king booms, despite him never raising his voice. As soon as he speaks the court ceases their chatter and looks up to him. “Best behaviour today, stay pleasant! We keep our minds open, and our hearts ready to learn. Broaden our minds, and do not close ranks on what we do not know. Our visitors have travelled far and hard roads to meet my beautiful son, and find him worthy for one of their own. They’re hard men, maybe not that interested in idle chatter. However, I am sure none of you will shame me or my second daughter Haruka, in meeting these men with their military knowledge, and tell them stories of our own conquests.”

Seconds of silence pass, then the court erupts in laughter. The king laughs too, pointing at certain people for whom conquest would mean wins at love and other things. Fuyuko snorts. Akinori notices that Haruka wouldn’t just sharpen knives, but break them in half.

“Yes yes, our royal guests are that much more trained in combat than we, a rather peaceful line. Except you of course, Haruka dear. Nonetheless! Do we not train, entertain sports, and are fit and healthy? Again, let me issue a warning: their culture is different to ours. Let us take this momentous opportunity to enlighten ourselves, stay humble, and above all, learn.”

The king’s speech ends as the drums and trumpets stop. That signals that everyone’s inside. The court, either standing or sitting, turns to the giant double doors opposite of the thrones. 

In that moment when no eye is upon him, Akinori feels the two hands of his sisters cover his own. ‘We’re one family’, they say. ‘Our support is to you forever.’ Haruka, always the one with the last word, and _always_ needed to get her point across as verbally and perfectly clear as she could, leans over to whisper in Akinori’s ear.

“Deep breaths in, little brother. There…the doors are opening. One. Final. Breath. Out.”

*

*

Queen Shichishoku enters first, followed by her first daughter, the royal princess and first in line for the throne. The third daughter is close behind, holding the banner of Chrysanthemum. The flag is 3 meters tall, depicting the colourful flowers. In the middle is a woman with nine fox-tails, holding up a golden cup. Akinori’s heart swells with pride whenever he sees their royal banner in all its glory. Natsuko looks as regal as her older sisters, a cape drawn over her shoulders, her sleeveless dress showing off her strong arms. No one follows right away after her. She waits for her mother and sister to take their seats at their thrones before following suit and allowing her voice to ring out throughout the hall.

“From across the lakes, the valleys, from the mountain’s highest peak; we welcome the Royal House of Tulips. King Washio Tetsuya the first, and his first born, Prince Washio Tetsuya the second,” Natsuko says, her voice the prettiest as she names off all the sons one by one. Akinori breathes through his nose, trying to look as nonchalant as he can as he watches one after the other enter. The King of Tulips has a hawk on his shoulder, and his first son carries a great sword on his hip, another in his hand. Their clothes are ones of winter, while the court and royal line of Chrysanthemum dresses lightly given the pleasant season.

Akinori’s heart drops. Each of the sons look as tall as the rumours had it. The last one to enter has the banner of their house. A black and grey backdrop, depicting one red tulip in all its length. No animals or figure, no relics. Just the single tulip, standing proud. The son bearing the banner steps aside, but whoever is behind him is cast in the shadows. From his spot, Akinori can see the second pair of feet.

“I present to the Royal House of Chrysanthemum, the richest and most accomplished matriarchy in all the realms, to the Queen Konoha…Our youngest born brother and elite warrior of our kingdom.”

Nothing happens for a moment. The court remains silent too, the words of their king reminding them to not raise any sort of alarm or chit-chat at different customs or words. Akinori thinks his back and the chair will become one any moment, the way he presses his shoulders blades into it. At last from the shadows come long legs, taking large strides. Akinori surely believes his heart gives out, as the boy entering takes the great sword of his oldest brother. Besides Akinori, Haruka stirs. The strides do not seem to be stopping.

And the boy isn’t looking at Akinori. He’s looking at the queen. Guards around them become restless too, until the youngest son of Tulips kneels before the steps leading up to the thrones. He goes to one knee, his head low, raising upon his ceiling-turned palms.

Silence once more. Then from the back, Takeji the second-youngest in line continues.

“A gift for the Queen, long may she live, long may she reign, and long shall her blood overrule those who try to conquer her holy Queendom.”

The court truly is one of a mind, Akinori thinks. Not one jaw drop. Not one head turning to another to whisper about this utmost strange way of giving gifts. His father’s words had made an impact. A guard takes a step forward, but Akinori’s mother stops him with a hand.

“Youngest son of Tulips, last in line for the throne. Won’t you raise your head and your shoulders?”

The supposed marriage candidate does as he’s asked, for a queen rarely asks anything. He stands up, the sword now stretched out from his arms on chest height. The guard is now allowed to take the sword, and thankfully, there’s a display case prepared by the house of Tulips. The sword is put on the right side of the throne room, next to Natsuko. Natsuko holds onto the banner, but her eyes look at the sword.

Akinori watches as the youngest Washio bows his head. Behind him, his father and brothers all line up besides him, and all but the King follow suit to bow their heads.

“Lovely. I think it’s best to take our conversations into privacy.” Akinori’s mother says, and slowly the court starts to get up and sing the hymn of their country. They slowly start to file out, but not all do so quickly. Their heads turn to the sword, to the new arrivals and their strange and dark ways of clothing themselves.

On either side, Akinori’s sisters stand up. Willpower alone brings Akinori to his feet, and he follows his family down the steps. Hands are clasped, small introductions are being made. Akinori watches the man he’s been told so much about. So much, and yet nothing. Who could have prepared him for those steely features that did not once turn to him? For someone making the long way for a marriage proposal, the youngest Tulip son sure doesn’t act interested in Akinori.

“Again, thank you for making the trip here,” he hears his mother say, and his father joins the chat too, for he had been inside during the welcoming phase outside. The kings of each nation couldn’t be more different, and yet they greet each other as old friends.

Akinori keeps glancing at the youngest Washio, for at least he is aware that they are supposed to show some sort of interest for one another. The profile is stark; a straight nose, well-groomed brows. Eyes that are near-black. As the hymn brings the court back to the side-doors and outside to gossip and talk about what they’ve seen, Akinori becomes slightly agitated at the lack of curiosity from his counterpart. He’s about to turn his head away, catching the last second when Washio the last finally looks at him. Akinori glances away at anything else, then turns his head back to face the man who wishes to court him.

“Ah, we will do no sort of negotiations and get to know each other standing! Please, allow me to lead the way. We have a full-course brunch arranged, a mixture of our countries' best delicacies, I hope,” Akinori’s father says, as Akinori finds himself in a battle of who looks away first. Once Washio Tatsuki’s eyes lock on his, there is no blinking, no glancing elsewhere. Even as the party slowly walks to the back of the throne room, to the royal suite and dinner rooms, Washio stands still.

Fuyuko hesitates, then gestures to the banner holder of the Washio's to follow her and Natsuko.

With their families departing and no one looking back, Akinori finds himself suddenly alone. The brightness of the throne room, the pride he feels all around him, diminishes. It’s like Washio is taking from him the longer the stare continues. Akinori decides then and there he doesn’t like it and takes a leaf out of Haruka’s book. He walks forward, forcing a smile to his lips.

“Shall we then?” Akinori offers, remembering that he’s the prince of his line. The only prince. He knew other princes from other regentdoms—the youngest Tulip wouldn’t find a boy like him anywhere else.

Washio’s chin rises a slightest bit. He looks down at Akinori, having all the height in the world to do so.

“Your first words to me, and that is your choice..?”

Akinori feels taken aback. He wants to go after his family, but nothing would say ‘run after mommy’ as doing that. He crosses his arms over his chest, raising his own chin a little too. The lack of height might not have the same effect, though Akinori knows how smug he can look if he feels like it. And he feels like it all the time, but especially now!

“Fine then. Given that there was no great introduction for me, I shall give one myself! My name is Konoha Akinori, only son of the Chrysanthemum royal line. I have no rank to speak of, nor will I ever sit on the throne. I have not fought any wars, but I am sure you will not find me lacking in any way, shape _or_ form,” Akinori says, not caring what this ‘warrior’ type of house, with all their swords and brutish expressions have fed this guy’s brain for years about proper manners.

“’Not’ lacking, hm? That shall be seen. Queen Konoha didn’t take the sword herself,” Washio says, and that’s enough for all hackles to be raised. Akinori’s grin continues, showing teeth.

“I would beg you to not take it in slight. The Queen of Chrysanthemums only takes up a weapon in time of war. For her to touch a bow or a blade would mean for all of us to take up arms and fight an enemy. You certainly didn’t travel from the highest mountain peak to start foolery like that here, I’d hope? This should be a conquest of hearts, after all. Not a bloodfest.”

From behind the thrones and royal seats, an advisor beckons them to come. Akinori sneers at him, although the advisor is just a messenger, and not to blame. He returns his spit-fire attitude to see Washio’s reaction.

“’Beg of me’..?” Washio repeats, and Akinori fears that whatever he says will be turned against him. Their cultures were so different that Akinori really shouldn’t be alone with Washio right now. He rolls his eyes, catching the long white drapes overhead. It was for him to put his best foot forward, but surely the ‘last’ son of a royal line didn’t come here to step on his toes on every turn!?

Akinori passes him as he walks towards the waiting—and now sweating—advisor; the poor guy takes his cue to walk ahead without turning back, just hoping that Akinori will bring the other man along. Making sure those ears wouldn’t hear it, Akinori turns to Washio, who remains standing where he offered a sword to the queen of a peaceful realm.

“Until we get to the begging part, there’s going to be a whooole lot of other things. First of all, brunch and a proper meeting of the families,” Akinori says, giving bounce to his step, and refraining himself from saying ‘chop chop!’ Brushing past the raised thrones on the steps, the remaining servants open doors for him. Akinori doesn’t look behind himself once. Washio’s too-long legs have no trouble catching up or keeping up with Akinori’s fast strides. He continues down the long hallway, with its large windows on the left. He passes sentries, seeing ahead the advisor that fetched them, and their families.

At the end of it is a high archway. Behind it, Akinori knows, is a special open terrace. Their family has breakfasts and lunch here, sometimes small gatherings at night. For today, the terrace would be dressed in plants and flowers, a large construction of wooden pillars standing over the table and chairs, with berries and grapes hanging between artfully coloured vines. An open space was thought best for this intimate meeting of the families, and Akinori welcomes it. 

Not once does Washio try to overtake or out-walk him. He keeps behind, always close, not making a sound on the white steps.

*

*

Akinori watches Natsuko breathe a sigh of relief when they enter. Everyone has already been seated, and the servants of both families stand around. There’s a special perch for the king’s hawk. Behind the large bird, others have joined. They weren’t in the throne room, Akinori remembers. They might belong to the brothers. The ancient bond between Tulip house and winged beasts was as mysterious as the secret powers within the line of Chrysanthemum. Akinori makes it a point not to stare too much or ask any stupid questions.

Akinori is sure that those 32 carriages would also have advisors, guardsmen, and perhaps politicians. They’re nowhere here, for which he thanks the fox goddess as he rounds the table to where his family is seated. Washio comes around the other side; there’s one last chair for him, at the corner of the table. Akinori notices it, but is distracted by the way the families turn their heads away as if this might have been just the first meeting of lovers destined to fit. Akinori wasn’t so sure. 

He takes his seat of honour between his oldest sister and his mother. Shikika smiles as lovely as the blooming chrysanthemum of their country, and turns that sweet smile to him.

“Aaand?” She whispers, through her teeth. “Got a first taste already?”

“Please,” Akinori huffs, pushing his seat forward. He bows his head to the King of Tulips, sitting diagonal across from him, noticing that he has his oldest son by his side, directly in front of Akinori. The table grows quiet. Prince Tetsuya stares at Akinori, then at Shikika, and last at Washio, who also contemplates the scene, not having seated himself yet.

“Ah, is something the matter?” His mother asks, having also noticed the shift of thought and doubt in front of her. 

Prince Tetsuya shakes his head, then scrapes his chair loudly. He stands behind it, pointing his hand down at the seat for his youngest brother to take it. Washio hesitates, but then quickly sits down. King Tetsuya, sitting in front of the queen, bows his solemn head forward.

“Many culture differences might lead to situations such as these. I have studied seatings of your great house, and the rules of every event and gathering. That being said, at our court, the…betrothed-to-be, always have to sit in front of each other. This of course comes to conflict with our highest seating rule, that of my first born always being on my right hand side.” King Tetsuya says, as his sons shuffle about to have Prince Tetsuya sit beside Tatsuki. “I should have realized, with your first daughter having not been put next to you…alas, this is my mistake.”

Queen Shichishoku shakes her head slowly. “It is our custom to reserve a, let’s say, honorary seat between the current queen and future queen. Given the occasion, this seat is Akinori’s for today. We should have our advisors discuss future plans, to make sure to not disrespect any of your house or bring embarrassment.” 

King Tetsuya nods and the prince bows his head deep in thanks.

“I am neither embarrassed nor disrespected by this minor change. We do however appreciate if we could prevent any misunderstandings in the future,” Prince Tetsuya says, and the entire table carries on with the conversation after that.

Akinori hadn’t wanted to sit right in front of his supposed betrothed-to-be after what happened in the throne room. He has the feeling that the first impression wasn’t a good one, and the second one hadn’t done much either. Instead of staring him down like a predator however, Washio is looking down at his plate, as his oldest brother talks past him. It’s then Akinori remembers one of the lessons he took to learn about the Tulip family; only the first born mattered. Only the first born of the first born mattered. King Tetsuya had Prince Tetsuya, who already had a prince in waiting. The lower in ranking you’d go in any royal family, surely, the further away from the throne, the further away from importance.

But the Konoha family gives love and respect to each of the children, as they each are regarded to have holy blood in them. The blood of the fox goddess of their nation, the creator of the chrysanthemum fields, the trickster vixen who crafts from pollen and petals the wines and potions that made their Queendom so incredible.

Naturally this blood of the goddess only flows through the women of the line; the males weren’t gifted with the holy blood. Akinori never let it get to him, for the boys in the line still were blessings to the era they were born in. Hadn’t it rained down a hundred golden lights upon Akinori’s birth? Stars died when he was born, littering the skies. Goddess tears, the people said, for she wept whenever boys were born without her holy blood. And weep she did, for she blessed the people with more prosperity whenever a son was born to make up for the fact that there wasn’t another daughter.

The knowledge of it courses through Akinori, as he looks at Washio Tatsuki. Last of the line. ‘Last son’, is what his title was. And he acted so high and mighty... Akinori prides himself on being the only son in his family, and digs into the first course presented to him.

*

*

Their parents had the decorum to not talk about possible trade routes and carriage crafting while Akinori and Washio were still at the table. The food served, eating and talking starts without any trouble at all. Akinori answers any question asked, or follows up cues from his sisters to tell stories or explain the culture of their line when prompted.

He likes it more when he can just eat, as it gives him time to think about what’s in front of him and not to that what’s all around him. Akinori contemplates Washio’s face, and doesn't find it hard to look at. Washio is handsome, his entire line is, if perhaps in different ways. They’re the same age, and it has been clear from the start that Akinori didn’t intend to marry a princess. A prince was all he ever wanted. Washio wasn’t exactly a prince, as only the first born sons of the Tulip house and their own first born sons would receive that title. Still, Washio Tatsuki was a prince in his own right. A proper marriage candidate. He wasn’t an ugly fellow, which Akinori greatly appreciates. 

And it was the first house of a regentdom to offer a son of their own to ask for Akinori’s hand. Every other royal family in their region, queens and kings alike, didn’t understand why he didn’t accept their daughters. It was simple, really. And yet for them, to not be able to produce heirs or children seemed to be unimaginable. Whatever the differences between their cultures may be, at least Akinori could appreciate how open and flexible the Tulip family was. Still, it’s weird to see all the sons and imagine them at ease with their youngest brother marrying another man.

As lunch continues, the talk of gifts is exchanged at a murmur. King Konoha explains gently how gifts are never presented at court or at full display. Usually, they’re wrapped, to be opened in a small circle or completely in private. At that, King Tetsuya turns to a group of his household, and waves his hands down. Akinori watches as several glints of steel and other gifts are hidden away. Further behind, a larger gift that hasn’t been fully brought into sight, turns around and is gone immediately. Tetsuya the prince then apologizes for having brought a gift into the throne room itself. They weren’t informed of the knowledge that the queen would never raise a weapon unless in war time.

Haruka announces after she’s done eating—because naturally she is inclined to—that the boys should certainly be shown to the stables. Hard-riding men as they are, they would appreciate the noble-blooded horses akinori’s family keeps. 

‘Stables’ in Haruka’s vocabulary and meaning, meant also the neighbouring arms and ammunition, the craftsmen, and the practice grounds. Natsuko and Fuyuko argue that surely this could be done another day, a royal tour of the palace must precede the stables. Memory serves that this was the plan of their mother, and not even a second daughter can crash through that. Akinori watches as the sons of the Tulips' beaming eyes become dull, wishing probably they could have gone Haruka’s route first. Haruka’s smirk is second to none, noticing this.

“If not today nor tomorrow, then the day after. Only if the sons are well-rested,” Haruka says, careful as all of them to not use the word ‘princes’. She is the first to get up from the table, with her younger sisters following. Their father instructs the servants to see the boys to their rooms. Akinori hears one of them murmur that a younger daughter, not even the first, could break off a gathering and even left first. Akinori also sees how none of the boys get up until their king tells them it’s alright to do so. With a single nod.

 _Strict as all bloody petals...they should loosen up a little,_ Akinori thinks, keeping his face pleasant as his father’s.

Shikika and Prince Tetsuya remain seated; talking about the pleasures of having children, the difficulties of raising them. Akinori, who loves his nephews and nieces, wants nothing more than to tell anecdotes. However, his mother gives him a look, which is as good and clear as a command. 

“Apologies, King Washio Tetsuya, Prince Washio Tetsuya, first and second of your royal house,” Akinori says, reciting the proper way to address them. Both of them. How exhausting to do this every time. He had to look over Washio the youngest to do so. “Our gardeners have put on a marvellous display of the chrysanthemum harvest. Second finest in the land!”

Akinori says with pride, watching three near exact faces at different ages blanch at that. Akinori keeps his smile up. 

“I would like to show it to your son, if you’d let me take him away,” Akinori urges, noticing how the youngest son stays seated.

“Second finest, you say,” Prince Tetsuya repeats, and Akinori wonders if this truly is a thing of their house—to dislike anything that isn’t is the ‘first’. Thankfully, his father saves him. Or saves the other side from hearing a snappy remark.

“Customs may differ again. In the Queendom it’s the most holy rite to split the finest harvest of flowers of each and every field in two—one to be burned, one to be gifted to hospitals and the sick. The second finest harvest finds their way to the palace, but only chrysanthemums, you see.”

The explanation does nothing to ease the shocked faces across from Akinori, who wishes he’d just say ‘let me take your son on a stroll’. It was nice to have his father—ever the diplomat—deal with these things. But Akinori doesn’t want to be the cause for a debate, or worse. If he would have mentioned ‘second finest harvest’ to Washio the youngest alone, surely it wouldn’t be this bad…no wait, he would have definitely crooked an eyebrow and repeated ‘second finest’ back, phrased as a question.

“I see…burning your precious flowers…What a sacrifice to be made. Each year, too?” King Tetsuya asks, and Shikika beams her smile at him. That smile could conquer any doubts or worries.

“A long history of tradition if nothing else. We are aware that some of our hallowed rites didn’t make it outside the realms, to be taught and understood. Certain things, well, we like to keep to ourselves and our circle.” Shikika shrugs her shoulder, smiling to herself. “In any case, we should let the boys go on their stroll, for now, and I will explain it all in detail!”

That’s the oldest daughter for you. While the Tulips were busy being astonished at a tradition unknown to them, Shikika would get them distracted and have Akinori’s request not be forgotten.

Several heads from both families start to nod, and Akinori sighs happily when Washio looks at his father and apologises. He finds himself excused from his father with a sharp nod, then turns to stand and look at Akinori. Quickly leading away from the table, Akinori guides Washio outside. Doors open in front of them, until at last they come to the gardens. It’s a raised plateau, one of many that overlook their city.

Archways have been built just for the occasion. There were many ways Akinori’s family would show off flowers, especially the ones of their royal name. But when the talk of political alliances came up, the idea to show off the chrysanthemum like this was one of the first ideas to be put into reality.

Same as the white hall of the throne room, Akinori feels at peace here too. Calm. This is his realm, well, more so than Washio’s.

“Our goddess, the Vixen, is known to cause casualties and calamities if not properly prayed to. One of the prayers involves the sacrifice of our flowers,” Akinori finds himself explaining, as the smell of a thousand flowers wafts over him. Only a few weeks ago, there was but the one archway, a plus-sign in the middle of the gardens. He’d made a sacrifice here for the farms. To think that the fox goddess brought him so much more… His eyes glance at Washio, who looks up at the colourful archways. Even with manners as bad at his, he was still a whole delicious meal to look at.

In the middle of his little lecture, Akinori notices that Washio stands still. He looks odd next to the colourful bloom of flowers, dressed in dark colours and thick furs. Akinori laughs.

“Aren’t you warm in all that?”

Washio crooks an eyebrow at him. “You want me to undress already?”

Akinori turns red, but the goddess may strike him dead before he will stutter like an idiot. He puts his hands on his hips, thinks over his words, then grins.

“Wouldn’t it be my prerogative to see what the bargain of marriage might give me?” _Hah, take that, stoic mountain boy._ It’s the last of Akinori’s triumphant thoughts as Washio closes in on him. He touches the furs over his shoulder. It was so unfair how tall he was, and that it was so easy for him to loom over people of Akinori’s statue. His family line wasn’t small in any way, but what was he supposed to do against this giant!?

“Then the same should be granted to me, don’t you agree?” Washio says, the hand on his fur now gracing the side of Akinori’s arm. Time doesn’t stand still as the touch roams over the back of Akinori’s arm too, to tickle down to his elbow. Behind Washio’s black hair, Akinori can see petals flurry behind him in the wind. Did he just entrap himself again?

“S-surely,” Akinori says, thinking how it wouldn’t be so bad if the goddess opened a giant hole right under his feet. Or she could send a sudden downpour, to let Akinori take shelter somewhere safe. As those thoughts swirl in Akinori’s mind, something in Washio’s face changes. A pained expression, appearing for a mere second. Washio’s hand falls away, and his eyes depart to look at the grass. He closes his eyes, gives a shake of his head, then opens them again to look at Akinori. His gaze softer, his shoulders tense up.

“Apologies for my behaviour. It is…not common for my father to put this much…expectation in one of his younger sons. In me. When he told me there was a suitable prince in a King—sorry, Queendom, and that it would be in our best interest if I’d marry into their family…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, and Akinori is left wondering if perhaps Washio didn’t want any of this. If, after having seen the palace, the grounds, the people, _me_ , he changed his mind. 

“None of that should be your concern, and I shouldn’t act out on you because of it,” Washio says instead, turning to leave. Akinori grabs his arm. Washio’s eyes never drop to the hand daring to hold him back; he stays perfectly still, looking into Akinori’s eyes. Goddess give him courage, but Akinori wouldn’t let his chances fade to nothing after a mere meeting and exchange of petty words.

“Woah there, big guy, wait. We can talk about this stuff! We’re put in a weird situation where each of our moves and the like will be closely watched. No one is here to chaperone us, and dear goddess they won’t ever. But you know!  
We’ve got time right now to…I don’t know. Get to know each other! My mom—Queen Shichishoku, she told me explicitly that nothing will happen if one of us doesn’t want it to happen. So if it doesn’t work for you—”

“Then my father will be cross with me, and disappointed,” Washio says lifting Akinori’s hand off his arm. Holding it. “Not to say I’d agree to anything against my will or that I have already made up my mind about you. I—” For someone being a war hero or akin to it, Washio displays a heavy amount of uncertainty. Akinori, who never had to deal with much of that in his life, finds it oddly endearing. He takes a deep breath, his fingers curling over Washio’s.

“Let’s start over, shall we? My name is Akinori. I’m the son of Queen Konoha, ruler of Chrysanthemum. Welcome to our great city, Chrysanthensia, capital of our Queendom,” Akinori says, pushing his left leg back to bow his head. “I’m the only prince of my household, not meant to ever sit on the throne. I offer you my acquaintance and friendship, for the length of the stay, and possibly beyond.”

Akinori knows he’s hit it right with that last line. Longevity was everything to the house of Tulips. Washio’s length appears more impressive when his chest broadens and he pulls himself up. When Akinori tries to take his own hand away, Washio grasps it.

“My name is Tatsuki, son of King Washio Tetsuya, first of his name. I have come from the high mountain peaks, travelled long on the journey to you. Thank you for welcoming me, the last son of the house of Tulips.” Washio doesn’t bend his knee, nor does he bow. He brings Akinori’s hand to his lips, to kiss his knuckles. Akinori becomes warm from the touch, so chaste and innocent. So…intimate. “We can take pleasure in the fact that we share this if nothing else; we shall sit on no thrones, and father no children.”

Then Washio’s eyes blink. “Perhaps I should not wish for a long friendship,” Washio says, his dark eyes burning with something Akinori has never seen up close like this. From above, a single petal falls on his head. Washio takes it, smells it, and keeps it. Akinori stays still through it all, his body burning with the beginnings of a crush. Whatever he’s got himself into, he would see it through. Maybe Washio Tatsuki was actually worthy to consider marrying.

*

*

Akinori returns to the palace interior, hearing the joyous news that the threat of Haruka starting several wars has been postponed due to the other activities their mother had planned. Knowing Haruka, she would have tried several times to get the Tulip sons towards the stables regardless of plans stating otherwise. That joy lasts as long as his other sisters open their mouths, insistent to wanting to know simply everything. Even Shikika, from whom he’d expected more regality, asks him again if he and Washio have done anything indecent. 

“Don’t call him ‘Washio’, he calls his father so…Tatsuki is his name,” Akinori scolds his sisters. In his mind, he also makes the switch. Tatsuki. A good name.

As his sisters overwhelm him by sheer force of their poking hands and questions, Akinori cannot do much else but to allow them into his rooms. Their guests have all been shown their accommodations for the stay, an entire wing in the palace, access to the bathhouse in the connecting garden. The queen guessed right that they might want to have some rest, and Akinori had helped Tatsuki find his rooms in the palace.

_”Our servants will guide you any way you need to go,” Akinori says, about to turn to a couple and give them instructions. Instead, Tatsuki leans close to him._

_“And how would I find your room?”_

Akinori blushes at the memory, even more ashamed how he blushed again at explaining the palace’s routes. His sisters, noticing this, tease him to no end.


	2. The trial of the petals begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tatsuki's presents are not well received. Akinori becomes bitter and decides to play hard to get. As he teases with clothing that reveal more than hide, Tatsuki tries all to make things right again.
> 
> And makes one glorious move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had a tight throat writing some of the stuff TT if i make my characters suffer however, i will always always make it up to them!

Noon passes into the afternoon without much disturbance. The house of Tulips doesn’t need as much ‘rest’ as their hosts expect. Instead, notes are passed to servants between the families. After all, the Tulip house hasn’t come empty-handed. Half the carriages were emptied out, and the gifts needed to be given away. 

Rintarou, hands in his pockets, walks into Tatsuki’s room. His eyes squint at the amount of light.

“Everything here is so blooming bright,” he says, taking an empty seat. Motoya helps Tatsuki with the clothes, buckling belts. The idea was to not put on fancy armour, given that their hosts dress themselves in light fabric. Tatsuki also says no to the furs, given that it is warmer here. Plus, he doesn’t need more teasing from Akinori, or to be baited into doing the teasing himself.

“This castle is more window than stone. A miracle that someone thought it wise to put it dead-center in the city. A good distance from catapults, at least.” Tatsuki says, looking at the full body mirror. He’s never had one of those, and he must give in to the appeal of seeing himself all at once. Komori grins.

“If this land still had dragons, they’d be done for when war comes.” Even as this realm hasn’t known war for decades, Tatsuki nods. He’s a fighter, a defender. And this palace is a nightmare made of white stone and windows upon windows. They have so many gardens and open spaces from the looks of it, but no battle defenses placed anywhere. Living here could be dreadful, and his eyes would need much adjusting to the light shining from every corner. Rintarou scrapes his boot over the floor, annoyed it doesn’t scuff.

“Prince Tetsuya has let us know we are allowed to stay with you, if things go well,” Rintarou says, looking at his boot. There’s no white stain on it. He falls into a nearby chair. “I mean, I never thought it through that deeply before but…It’s a given we will stay if they accept you. _If_ that puffy prince accepts you.”

“Mind your words, Suna. And…thank you.”

Motoya shakes his head. “I cannot wait to see these stables. The second daughter makes it sound like a challenge.”

Rintarou grins. “She’s a warrior, that one. Much more than any of the family,” he leans back into the seat, staring Tatsuki up and down. “I’ve heard someone say she has three rooms of weapons and armour. Would love to see that.”

Before Motoya or Tatsuki can say anything about sneaking into a princess’ room, the door opens. A servant of the Tulips brings in a note from Tatsuki’s brother, detailing where the giving of gifts will be done. The queen requested them in the throne room, whenever they were ready. Motoya reads the note over Tatsuki’s shoulder.

“Just the families again? What a bother. Everyone should see your gift, Tatsuki,” Motoya says, stepping away when he’s done. Rintarou groans, but keeps quiet otherwise.

“The only one who counts is the boy…and perhaps his house’ opinions of Tatsuki. It doesn’t matter.” 

Meeting back in the throne room, Tatsuki finds the house of Chrysanthemum in that same jumbled order, which even though he studied it, makes no sense to Tatsuki. It looks disorderly.

Having learned also how gift-giving is done in this country, King Washio decides that they will at least keep their order alive. Oldest to youngest, leaving Tatsuki’s gift for Akinori as a bombastic end. Forming the line, Tatsuki watches at the end of it how one after the other, servants walks in to present the queen, the king, their first daughter, and all the rest following after with the presents they brought from afar. It doesn’t go unnoticed how none of the Chrysanthemum house touch their gifts. They’re being taken away by their servants immediately, heading toward the tall doors where the rest of their court is sitting. Tatsuki thinks it’s all very weird but he’s happy to hear the announcer on the other side, the oohs and aahs from the court. It’s a smaller sized court for sure, to form a compromise between one house liking to show off gifts, while the other feels a bit awkward receiving them in front of people.

Maybe it’s Chrysanthemum house’ way of restraint, strength. Tatsuki doesn’t dwell on it. After all, they have a gigantic clock on this side of the throne room; keeping perfect time. While on the side of the court room...it's there too, but backwards. The Washio house acknowledged it without comment, and vowed it would just be one of those things they wouldn't question out loud. Tatsuki shifts his eyes from the clock now, as it is his turn at last, and his father takes a step forward as servants bring in Tatsuki’s gift from the large double doors.

“And at last, from my son to yours—I know other houses think us barbaric brutes. Even so, my son loves to prove himself worthy. He has hunted down a great boar for dinner, or to salt its flesh and keep them at your disposal. He provides fresh pheasants, and his arrow struck true at branches on hard to reach areas, to gift alongside the meat many rare berries for consumption, or to spice your wine. As such, my son proves himself to be able to hunt food for your table, and to have your son never go hungry.”

Tatsuki stands proud, watching as the last of his hunt is brought to the middle of the throne room. He has no idea if the faces on the other side depict awe or worry. The boar he fell really was large. He wonders if anyone told Akinori he’s supposed to have one of the animals served for dinner, so he can taste the meat. Or to eat one of the berries right now, to appreciate Tatsuki’s effort and congratulate his finds. 

Blinking, Akinori rounds the front of the boar, inspecting it. This at least is something Tatsuki’s people would do as well. A thorough inspection. But Tatsuki’s brows crease when he sees Akinori’s hand touch the head of the boar, eyes glancing over the husks. Tatsuki watches intently; he kissed that hand before. It was a rare ‘in the moment’ thing he’d felt like doing.

To the collective surprise of the Tulip house, Akinori closes his eyes and says a prayer to the fallen animals. Behind him, his family except Queen Konoha join in. They thank the animals for giving their lives during their prime, and hope that their strength will be transferred to them.

Opening his eyes, Akinori looks at Tatsuki. Not the least bit appreciative. 

“I thank you for the presents. As King Washio suggests, it shall be done. Boar for dinner, and the berries to spice the wines, the broth, and to be served as garnish.” Akinori bows to grab one of the branches with golden berries. He picks one, eats it, then looks Tatsuki in the eye. One look should not make Tatsuki feel weak. Not when his hunt is so plentiful and great. Akinori swallows the berry, struggling visibly. He gives Tatsuki a shallow bow of gratitude. Tatsuki has no way of reading a stranger, but he can sense the disgust and dislike in every movement. The hand holding the stick has become a clenching fist. The branch doesn’t break however.

“Thank you greatly!” The queen says loudly, clapping her hands. At once, her servants bring away the food. Tatsuki hears Suna snort when more than two men are needed for the boar. When the beast is brought away, Akinori too is gone.

One of his brothers—Tanosuke—requests to go to the kitchen, to help instruct how to prepare the meat if the cooks here aren’t acquainted with it. Natsuko says she will accompany him. Leading one of his brothers away, Natsuko gives Tatsuki one final look. It’s the same he then notices on all the sisters. He wasn’t able to decide if awe or worry crossed their faces earlier—there’s no doubt about their expressions now. Although Haruka showed a bit of appreciation as she saw the boar at first, none of it was left.

Tatsuki keeps facing the sisters, who look so much alike Akinori, and sees nothing but disappointment. ‘You could have done better’, they seem to say. The daughters of Chrysanthemum then join their court on the other side as the doors open at one side of the room. Perhaps to discuss or ridicule the gifts they were given. The kings and queen go to a ‘map room’ in the inner-palace, one Tatsuki would like to see too.

Instead, Tetsuya approaches him from behind, whispering into his ear as the throne room quiets.

“The tutors disallowed any interference from us regarding the matter. However, I feel very inclined to urge you to find that prince. If the siblings faces are anything to go by, your marvellous gift hasn’t been as well received as it would be in our parts.” Tetsuya then leads his other brothers away; a servant of Shikika has invited them to join the court on the other side for refreshments. Tetsuya sighs. At last, the politicians and advisors of both houses would meet and converse in that setting.

Tetsuya asks on his behalf where the prince of house Chrysanthemum has gone to. The servant denies that Akinori’s with the court or would know his whereabouts. Some of the remaining courts turn around. Murmurs about passages, balconies, and most likely places are passed between several members to help the servant out in answering Tetsuya’s question. Tatsuki would have liked to stay a little more low-key, but it seems that’s not the practice here.

“Thanks, Ferdinado, I will take it from here. And all you chatterboxes! Stay quiet with your gossip,” a voice behind the servant says. Tetsuya thanks the servant, then nods to Tatsuki to come forward. Once more mostly alone in the throne room, Tatsuki comes face to face with someone who doesn’t look like an ordinary servant. This one’s robes are more like the prince’s. His hair is blackish brown, a fluffy mop of hair sticking to every direction. Tatsuki notices how the mouth is shaped into a forever-smile. The boy in front of him introduces himself as Sarukui, private attendant to Akinori.

“I was advised to show you the way, if you’d ask.” And off they go, passing between the thrones and the court-room on the other side. Sarukui leads him to a passage that goes under, then up. Tatsuki, not one to ask questions or look too eager, doesn’t inquire who gave the advice to this attendant. If perhaps Akinori wants to see him. The passage leads up further, exiting into a round room.

“One of the many ballrooms we have,” Sarukui explains. To the left and the front are high arches, and two separate balconies. Sarukui stays at the door. Behind him, Suna and Komori follow. Tatsuki looks at them, and then at Sarukui, who nods his chin to the left balcony. From this point, Tatsuki can’t see anyone outside, but the archways have broad walls in between them.

Passing under one such arch, Tatsuki hides his surprise when a small man leans against the wall. One foot crossing the other, arms crossing his arms, the boy looks up to him. All cross. Tatsuki regards the auburn hair, fluffy on top, shaven and dark brown below. The clothing is the same as Sarukui’s. This one however, doesn’t introduce himself. Another chin nod urges Tatsuki to enter the balcony. “And you two stay right where I can see you,” he says to Suna and Komori, who wouldn’t have come further forward anyway.

Tatsuki gives his friends one more look and reproaches especially Suna from making trouble. He then turns, greeted by sunshine and a pleasant breeze.

In front of him he finds Akinori at the railing. White stone surrounds the half-moon area. Ahead the city and its walls can be seen. The berries do not seem to have travelled with Akinori. Maybe he threw them over… Tatsuki’s approach is careful, making sure his tread is heard ahead of his arrival. Akinori’s face slightly turns, then changes his mind and doesn’t greet Tatsuki.

“I understand that our brutish ways have not fallen in favour.”

To Tatsuki’s surprise, Akinori laughs and shakes his head. “Your family didn’t do us wrong. Not to worry, I don’t think there was actual disrespect paid to our throne.” Akinori leans with his arms and elbows on the railing. A small wind blows his hair away from his face. No breeze here is strong enough to upset Tatsuki’s hairstyle. He leans one elbow sideways onto the railing, contemplating letting his hand touch Akinori by accident.

“What you did with the boar. Will you explain it to me?”

Akinori‘s head turns towards him, then the eyes gaze back to the city, into another place. “It is tradition to say a prayer before hunting or slaughtering animals. Our hunters and butchers say them, usually. For great events and feasts, we invite clerks of the holy order to say it for us. Sometimes, my mother says the prayer, but it's rare for her. Our stories tell that our goddess, the Vixen, never killed an animal without thanking it for the gift of life it gave away, to prolong hers or make her godly powers stronger. No woodland creature in her land was harmed unless it was for the survival of the greater group, or for the defenses of her land. Sons of this throne do not carry her blood, not her gifts. And yet, seeing this beast before me, and the pheasants with the empty eyes…I couldn’t help myself from saying the prayer.”

Tatsuki nods. He didn’t know that. It hadn’t been in that religious tome. His tutors didn’t know about the customs of gift-giving or these private prayers. So much wasn’t known…

“You might have heard that our custom is to say grace before dinner, to thank the goddess for the sustenance she provides. It would do us a great favour if you and your line would hold off from eating straight away tonight, until we have said our prayer. We will never force our religion or beliefs onto others, especially not guests from faraway lands or…mountains in this case. It's just so that you won’t feel awkward, or have our court mutter below their breathes.”

Nodding once more, Tatsuki tells that the Tulip house is aware of that little custom. “We decided to bow our heads during dinner, to honour your belief and traditions.”

Akinori gives him a wry smile. “Thank you, I do appreciate the effort.” Even if the air seems to have cleared from the last encounter, Tatsuki can’t help but feel not all is fixed yet. He leans his body in, his fingers hesitating in the air. He doesn’t touch Akinori’s fingers. If there wasn’t some barrier between them, risen since the bringing of the boar and the berries, Tatsuki might have tried to touch him. He wasn’t one to understand the norms of romance, but this balcony, the view, the slight breeze. It was all too inviting…

“Is something else the matter?” He asks instead, fighting the urge to conquer those lips with his own.

Light brows crinkle, visible as the breeze keeps pushing Akinori’s hair back. The anger and disgust from earlier has vanished, making way for a sadness Tatsuki couldn’t understand its origins.

“If I tell you, I will sound pathetic. Weak. Like a child, almost. In any case, one could say it was my own foolish hopes and assumptions that brought me down to this level,” Akinori says, his voice all wrong. Hurt. Tatsuki doesn’t understand what great injury he has caused, only that he was the one causing it. Stepping and inch closer, his elbow still on the stone railing below, he brings his voice to a whisper.

“I am perfectly capable of understanding what is weak and what is not. Whatever trouble I have caused, let me make it right again. For that, I need you to tell me what mistake I might have made, what slight I brought.”

For a while, Akinori says nothing. Tatsuki’s left ear hears the bustling of the city below, the liveliness coming from everywhere. To his right, he hears feet shuffling, the boots of his friends so easy to hear, even if they left their weapons in their rooms. Tatsuki’s sole focus returns to Akinori, when his mouth finally opens.

“Shikika, when her suitor came to the palace, received our family’s weight in gold. In the city of my brother-in-law, her statue was raised, a reminder to the people who their future second queen will be. All gold, standing in the middle of a beautiful pavilion. It’s the family of the Silver throne, but they found she favoured gold. Haruka, who never took a man or woman as hers, has received countless weapons as presents, some useful, some just to showcase. An anonymous admirer sent her a complete bronze broadaxe. She keeps everything, as no one in these realms would ever ask back for a present, no matter if the presented would return favours or not,” Akinori says, his eyes on the city.

“Natsuko’s fiancé arrived at the palace with 23 horses, her age that year. Every horse’s hair was braided in sapphires, jade, rubies, rose quartz and pearls. To mirror the flower field of our nation, an accompanying letter said. The precious stones were hers to keep. The past months, rumours have gone around this city, our court, and come from advisors who have checked them. They all say the same, how three different princes from across the sea and the dry-lands are amassing gifts greater than all that have been given to the older sisters. To be given—just to dote and not even to propose—the youngest daughter in our line. They aren’t even competing against each other, or actually asking her hand yet. They just want her to be happy, to remember them when the time comes to choose her partner for life.”

Poisonous vines grip tight around Tatsuki’s heart, more and harder as the accounts of what other marriage candidates have done in the past, or are planning to do. He hears clearly in Akinori’s voice how his hopes have been trampled. Tatsuki has proven nothing with his bow and arrow. What should have been a show of strength and his capabilities, was badly received here.

“I didn’t expect much. Blood on the petals, I didn’t even think what to expect when a boy marches in with his 32 carriages. I had no illusions that half of them could have presents for me. After all, there is no decision made yet. I understand completely that no monetary worth would be given to me,” Akinori says, his hands on the railing now, his feet propped up below as he leans back. He looks towards the sky. “I was foolish to even dream anyone wanting to ask my hand would give me even an inkling of attention or presents like my sisters receive. Like my nieces will get.”

Throat dry, sorry seems to be the last thing Tatsuki should say. Akinori closes his eyes as he inhales deeply, his chest rising. He exhales, his face serene looking.

“People don’t give me presents, you know. No one fights for my hand. Wanting no daughters, the surrounding countries have given up on securing our line with theirs. No marriage I make would be as important as the marriages of my sisters. As a son of the Chrysanthemum line, my expectations were so extremely low,” Akinori says, his head turning to Tatsuki, who has frozen against the white railing of the balcony. Ashy blond hair falls over Akinori’s brow. The wind stills as the cold settles in Akinori’s eyes, in Tatsuki’s veins. As if he commands it to be still, for his final words spitting to Tatsuki. The vines pause, unable to squeeze any tighter.

Akinori pulls himself to the railing. He looks down over the city, the wry smile pulling his face more into a grimace. 

“I thought of so many things a suitor could give me. I was vain to believe that, after all, I could be worthy of such things. Maybe that vanity, the dreams, the belief that other countries’ customs would differ from my own, is what should hurt me more. I only have myself to blame.” The laugh is empty. Akinori looks up to Tatsuki again. When he speaks, his voice is venom.

“A dead boar, shot down poultry, and some berries. My mother, naturally, receives a giant sword she hopefully never has to use. Your brothers bring my sisters beautiful bound books, artisan brushes, ink and paint made of your tulips’ precious petals. Our court marvels at it all, as they think receiving any sorts of presents from the Tulips is a great one. What do I get? A dead animal to be eaten by everyone, shat out the same night or the next day. Nothing to remind me that I received a presents apart from the stick those stupid ‘rare’ berries were on. We have no need for the hide of a boar, or its tusks. Nothing that lasts. Longevity is your family’s greatest pride, and you bring me death, the end of all ends.”

Shaking his head, Akinori releases a final huff, then stalks off across the balcony to exit it. Tatsuki’s throat is too thick to speak or to call after him. He looks at the place where Akinori stood, his words of venom repeating in Tatsuki’s mind. Tatsuki’s eyes glance at the arch, watching the boy he saw earlier pushing himself off the arch pillar and following his prince. Their shadowy silhouettes join the third who brought Tatsuki here. From the same place, Motoya and Rintarou slowly walk to him. Motoya repeatedly looks back to where they must have seen Akinori storm off.

“I guess he didn’t like the great boar you brought huh?” Rintarou asks, hitting the nail as bluntly as he can.

*

*

The court’s dismissed for the day, to prepare for the evening. Akinori knows it, and so he takes several passages to bypass them all. He doesn’t need to see a single one of them. Would there be pity for him? Or did their court not expect him to get anything better. At least the kitchen seems excited with all the wild game and new ingredients. Every region has its own pride, and it seeps down to the food as well. Akinori checks if the coast is clear. When he sees the staff that has given him sweet apples and let him steal a pie or two, Akinori leans further in past the door; he holds it open with a hand, ready to make a quick exit in case someone from the Tulip family makes an appearance.

While the kitchen is busy with preparations and rearranging things, Akinori ignores the large boar in the middle of the room. He picks up the same stick he held before. The Chrysanthemum kitchens are known for their artful meal enhancements. Akinori waves the stick. “Pick it clean, then let Salvador or whoever is on duty bring this to me; in a simple glass bowl. Nothing fancy,” Akinori adds, biting his tongue with the thought that clearly, he doesn’t deserve ‘fancy’ even once. Not letting himself swayed to stay a second longer, Akinori continues on the secret routes to his room.

Sadly, he cannot hide from his sisters, who stand guard at his door. Neither of them stop him from storming in, and he doesn’t shut the door in their faces for it. Outside, Yamato and Haruki speak in soft voices.

Slamming himself into one of the plush chairs by the window, Akinori feels no haste to call for a bath, to prepare for the dinner tonight. He has to eat his own present. He doesn’t know if he can stomach the boar. Not just because of the tense knowledge that everyone will be watching him eat it, love it, and thank that blasted no-prince for it. Angrier than he’s ever been before, Akinori stares off into the distance. He should get it all out now, so he can bring up the façade of prince perfect later that night. 

For once, his sisters leave him alone. Good. Akinori hasn’t felt this much pain in his chest since those hunters from their stables left for guard duty at the outermost border. The unimportance of the son in the family has allowed Akinori to flirt and play around with commoners to his heart desires. His last fooling around had been a year ago, before that one cute guard had to leave. 

He could go anywhere he wanted, marry anyone he wanted. There were no hard rules in place for him when it came to that, especially because Akinori wouldn’t bring his house daughters. He knew from a young age that he has no desire for girls, and that ‘children’ would therefore be either adopted or just animals.

His parents never disliked him for it. His decisions were always respected, accepted, even welcomed. It didn’t matter, because he was a son. Haruka could do the same, having special rights as the second daughter. Shikika was a born mother and ruler, and so that was no headache either. Akinori enjoys so much freedom that he never thought of having to worry about marriage, or the customs that would come with it—there were no customs in place for the sons of the Vixen line. And yet.

“And yet I am that stupid moron,” Akinori says to himself, having heard the doors to his rooms close earlier. That idiotic fool who thought he could have it, after all. The house of Tulips, mountain folk, their traditions and ways so wildly different…but they too accepted same sex marriages, even within their own royal line. No matter how much he wants to think that he cannot blame the upbringing or ways of another nation’s house, at least they could have done better than a boar! Pheasants! Akinori didn’t care how rare those berries were. He’d drink himself drunk on wine tonight. Then piss it all out. That’s where his presents would end up, after all; down the drain, into nothing.

A knock on his door brings Akinori out of his self-wallowing. Wiping his face clean of the tears he’d never admit were there, he says ‘Come in’, staying within his seat. Haruki walks in, Yamato close behind. His friend looks as stormy and unforgiving as Akinori feels.

“Sooo, the plan…you still want me to follow that guy?”

Akinori huffs. Oh, how important Tatsuki would feel if he finds out. Akinori shakes his head. “Do not bother. My mother the queen will have her own spies out. If he behaves weird or does anything…unbecoming of our line, I will know of it sooner or later.”

They might be a flower country, but they weren’t dumb, defenceless, or naïve. The royal families have met during gatherings in the past, but never interacted on a deeper level. Now political importance was thrown in like a heavy stone. Precautions were taken, the best spies employed. All sons would be followed, their inquiries, questions, and doings monitored. If the house of Tulips had any ill will or different plans, they would be sent home. There was no need for a close friend like Haruki to put himself in harm’s way, or to leave Akinori’s side.

“Befriend yourself with your counterpart, the one with the thick brows. Saru, you talk with that flat-face guy. Don’t be too obvious, never ask questions. Let’s see if they give up secrets on their own accord. And don’t tell them anything about me, alright?” Akinori says, shifting his eyes to his friends. Yamato sighs, and Haruki's brow arcs up.

“Please, like we’d ever betray you in any way. If that tall glass of water wants anything, he can try and get it,” Haruki says, reaching out his fist for Akinori to bump it.

“I will ask the arrangers to sit us next to them. We have the same rank and jobs, I have been told. It wouldn’t seem out of order,” Yamato says, excusing himself first. Out of the door for a second, Yamato peeks his head back in. “Oh, the dressers are coming!”

Akinori’s eyes widen. Perfect. He will make Tatsuki feel sorry for not bringing better presents. He will have his revenge.

“Ohoohoo, I know that face all too well,” HAruki says, stepping aside when Akinori gets up to welcome the dressers. “That’s the face our great Konoha Akinori makes when he’s about to present himself in scandalous ways. Think back to the last visit of the flower country of roses, my dears! Remember the see-through tops, the revealing summer shorts? We will be in for it again,” Haruki commentates, making most of the younger dressers giggle. 

Turning to him, Akinori scolds, “Don’t narrate like that! Or I will put you and Saru in matching revealing outfits to let blushes creep on those already married!”

Haruki is out of the door before he can be stripped, and Akinori looks over the many clothing racks being brought into his room. He rubs his hands together, sticks his tongue out, then orders any heavy or dark fabrics out. They were sent to compliment the dress-code of his possible-fiancee. But Akinori is done keeping him in mind in all he does. Tatsuki will have a taste of him, Akinori will make sure of it. He eyes his desk, now adorned with a small glass bowl, holding a single light brown branch in it. Akinori squints his eyes at it, reminded of the breeze and the view of the city, and the way his heart hurt.

A boar, pheasants, and berries. Tatsuki will regret the arrows he shot before midnight approaches.

*

*

Beside the throne room awaits the even larger courtroom. The spaces in the palace of Chrysanthemum have been made large to honour the Vixen, who always liked space to roam and be free. If it wasn’t big, roomy, spacious, or light, it was simply not in style. Even the passages were kept alight, white stones spotless. Only the underground passages were gloomy, secretive. And even that was in honour of the trickster goddess, who would stray from her ways at a whim.

To make sure to not meet anyone and give away his grand entrance, Akinori uses one of the hidden away passages. His parents permission is a push on his back. Not even his sisters know what he looks like, and have only been told the basics to let him stand out more. For once. 

Akinori loves his sisters. He’d fight wars for them, throw himself in the mud, defend their honour. Their love to him means the world. It wasn’t anyone’s fault that the goddess’ blood could only flow through the women in their family, that special gifts and heightened senses would be carried by the stronger of the sexes (at least here in the valley it was believed that the women were stronger and smarter). Akinori was never teased or perceived as ‘lesser’ by his sisters. No one was to blame.

For them to agree that he can be the center of attention during the stay of the Tulips…Akinori would make sure to do everything in his power to bring greatness and honour to his line, to let his sisters rest at ease over his future. 

Overhead, the murmur of the court flows through concrete. Smiling, Akinori doesn’t want to be too late. The passage reaches upwards, and he finds himself opening a door to sentries and servants who usher him forward to the side entrance. 

Up ahead, on a raised dais, a long table faces out over the court-room. Advisors from both families determined a new way to arrange seating, and uphold this as much as possible during the Tulips’ house stay. From the middle outward, both families would fan outwards, from oldest to youngest. Next to the rulers would be their first children. And beside those, the two who everyone would want to come to accord on the marriage. Akinori doesn’t want to know how Haruka feels, having never been put so far away from the middle. Because next to Akinori, would first come his father, and then Haruka. He does hope his sister will have his back and not begrudge him this too much.

Akinori sighs, about to walk out. He notices how the numerous birds belonging to the Tulip family turn their heads at once. For them, little perches were created so they could stay with their masters at all times. As if a telepathic bond binds the hawk with the king, it is King Tetsuya who first looks at Akinori. Behind him, Tatsuki cannot be seen.

Putting it aside, Akinori starts his stride behind the long table where first his family is seated. Tatsuki can have his fill soon enough.

The court falls to a murmur, watching him walk behind his family members. His sisters are all dressed colourful, presenting the colours of their court. Akinori chose white, soft chiffon, like the ceremonial curtains in the throne room. They leave nothing to be suspected or rumoured, showing off his torso and arms under feather-light fabric. It flows behind him as if he walks through water. Like the ceremonial tulle caping his mother’s shoulders whenever the occasion for it arises.

His back has a slit free, to show off his tattoo. He doesn’t prance around with it often, and never has put it on display for the court to ever see it. But he will show these guests how strong his spine is. He endured this tattoo that took days and nights. He will endure a boar for a present.

The only thing not seen by the court is his lower body, where crisp white shorts hug his bottom just perfectly. The chiffon extends from below that, to be wrapped around his ankles.

Akinori smiles sweetly as he walks towards his mother first, bows to the Tulip King, and ignores Tatsuki.

“Mother, apologies for the wait.”

“No matter, no matter,” his mother whispers back, giddy to see her son show off all there is to see. The line of Chrysanthemums likes a spectacle every now and then, and weren’t shy to show skin. All his sisters, as he nods his hello to them, have their shoulders and their fronts covered. Their backs are covered in fabrics too, as to not upstage Akinori’s efforts. 

Before he sits down, he looks over the court, his smile never fading. 

“All hail the queen of Chrysanthemums, carrier and giver of the holiest blood, blessed by our Fox goddess the trickster Vixen of the valley. Praise be her enarmouring light and love for her family.”

“All hail the queen,” booms back from the court, only the part of the Tulips remaining a bit silent or whispering at best. Not wanting to take up too much of the dinner time, Akinori sits himself down, extremely pleased. The queen herself then proceeds with the table manners, thanking their guests for coming so far, the court for arranging themselves in their best way.

“Lastly, before we start the feast, a toast must be spoken out over our most important guest, who has behaved quite unlike any we have hosted before. For this guest brought us the food on our table, the spices and the delicacies you all so hungrily look forward to. In our glasses we find the rarest berries of the lands, to spice our wines, and add flavour to those who are drinking water or tea tonight. Let us toast to Washio Tatsuki, last of his line, and husband-hopeful of my son Akinori. To him!”

Glasses and other containers rise as one, all around. Akinori joins in too. His face gleans over the court, making sure they all drink before he takes a sip. He hates how nice it actually tastes after all. He swallows it, along with a forming grimace on his face. He should be nothing but a total beauty, happy to be so coveted and cherished.

“Ah, allow us,” says King Tetsuya. Several chairs move as servants bring in part of the boar that hasn’t been cut away for preservation or broth. The line of Chrysanthemum looks up aghast. Didn’t Akinori tell that fool Tatsuki about the prayer!? But hearts may rest again, as the King and his two sons, the first and the last, bow their heads. “As it is custom in your lands, first we will listen to the prayer for the fallen beast. Then, we only ask for my son Tatsuki, to bring your son Akinori, the first cut of the meat for tasting.”

The court buzzes in approval, and Akinori barely manages to keep his smile from looking natural. Thankfully, he can soon bow his head, place his hands together, and listen to his mother’s prayer. Short and humble, the prayer resounds from the walls. Everyone watches as Tatsuki rounds the long table, steps off the raised dais, and is given a sharp knife from one of his close servants. Akinori notices that to his wishes, Haruki and Yamato have joined the table of Suna and Komori. He wasn’t sure yet who was who. 

He brings his eyes away from them, to watch in bated silence as Tatsuki cuts the meat. A servant of his house brings a small plate, so Tatsuki may carry it up to Akinori by walking up to the front. His tallness blocks out the candle light all behind him. His face is set in deep shadows.

“It is my dearest wish that I would have brought you anything else but this. As there is nothing to be done about it this second, I just request humbly for you to taste this flesh,” Tatsuki says, bowing low over the table after setting the plate on top of Akinori’s. His ears become warm as Tatsuki whispers into one. “I wish I could offer up my own flesh instead, to bleed for you, be hurt for you, defend you. Please forgive me. May the taste of this boar do well in reparations of our feeble, so easily broken bond.”

Akinori doesn’t give himself a chance to look at Tatsuki’s face when he retreats to his chair. Instead, Akinori eats the meat, swallows it, then looks about the room.

“Not poisoned!” He jokes, and hears even King Tetsuya laugh loudly at that. After the laughter stills, everyone begins to eat. Pleasant conversations become a buzz of noise in the hall, accentuated by cutlery and plates coming together as the food gets devoured. 

Before dinner ends and the first guests retreat to their rooms within the palace or homes within the palace grounds, Shikika stands up. She announces that the original dinner plans have been postponed for this feast, and that everyone is welcome to another one held to pay respects to the house of Tulips. And everyone is cordially invited to join the dance afterwards, a ball as only the Chrysanthemum line would host them.

Akinori downs his second wine glass in one go, then pushes his chair back.

“If you excuse me, I must go before the night turns cold and I might catch a fever,” Akinori smiles to his mother, whose fingers grace his cheek. He’s dismissed, and gets up to bow towards the entire line of Tulips, before making his exit. Fuyuko, at the end of the table, catches his wrist.

“Status report in your room?” She whispers, and Akinori gives a quick nod to his sister. 

They arrive as one loud group, not even pretending a knock for decency. His sisters carry in their veins storms and earthquakes, and as such they flood the room as they enter. Shikika holds a seasonal cask of wine out front, nodding to Akinori to get the glasses. He jumps up to a cabinet, where he keeps candies, spices and other things secret. From it he now pulls glasses shaped like a fox at the front, with a flat fox tail at the back. No matter the gender, every child of their line has tableware like this, for special occasions.

For Shikika to bring a seasonal wine, a cask full, no other glasses would do. 

“Oh thank the Vixen, it’s still closed. I wouldn’t know what to do if you brought me that spiced wine,” Akinori says, watching as Haruka opens the cask with a small hand axe.

“Brother dearest, I would never do such an offensive thing. Just because we let brute strangers into our home, doesn’t mean we take up their ways.”

“Hear this,” Fuyuko says, holding two glasses under the slit as Haruka steadies the cask to empty into the first two glasses. The siblings laugh as one, as soon everyone has a glass in their hand. Haruka shakes her head, thinking up a toast.

“Why, we must pray when we go to the toilet. Dear sisters, we must honour the loss of our brother's present all the way down the ceramics.” She makes a face, and Akinori matches it. And then everyone drinks the first glass, Haruka finishing hers with ease, laughing when Fuyuko coughs.

The sisters speak at once, a happy bubble of noise and laughter. Without leaving Akinori out, they tell him and each other all the little things they saw that night; how gloomy Tatsuki had been throughout the dinner, barely touching the food he helped bring to the table. How he had one glass of wine the entire evening, and only finished it towards the end. Akinori delights in the gossip, revealing that Tatsuki was brought down a notch. 

No matter how much he drinks, Akinori won’t tell what Tatsuki told him when he brought that first cut of meat to him.

When one topic is finished, the switch into the next happens with another pour of the cask. Servants loyal to this palace were heard whispering about Suna and Komori, the close retainers of Tatsuki. How upon arrival, their weapons were confiscated, to be brought back to the carriages. Shikika tells how their mother explained that weapons could never be carried in front of the queen; it would be a declaration of war. The king and his sons knew, so the small confiscation was a matter of tittle-tattle. It was crazy to think that they still brought a sword as a gift in front of their queen mother. Haruka minds it least, demands they have their weapons back as soon as they enter her phase of welcome. An interlude at best.

Drinking the only wine he can truly stomach this night, Akinori gobbles up the tales of his sisters, who fill him in on everything. How King Tetsuya is reserved about political talk, not yet pushing the agenda that Tatsuki and Akinori are a match to be made. He’s careful, that one, and his line shows it. Nothing is certain, so they’re on their best behaviour. Akinori likes this inkling of power he has. He tells his sisters the words of their mother. His feelings are more important than a marriage, even if many good things would come from the mountains. There’s no pressure, and Akinori flies on this freedom. 

On the third glass, Natsuko and Haruka ask what Akinori considers wearing to the ball. He fakes reluctance to share, but as soon as Fuyuko pleads in earnest, he springs up to show a collection of what he thinks would look good when he dances. Each and every outfit is more revealing than what he wore today.

“I wonder how many clothes the men and boys have brought in their numerous carriages. One of the stable boys told me they actually have a lot of clothes, coming prepared for whatever occasion or event we might throw at them,” Natsuko murmurs as Akinori closes one of his many wardrobes.

“To me, it seems like they wear the same every day,” Akinori scuffs. The wine is getting to him. Pleased to see that Shikika fills her own fourth glass to full, he sighs heavily. “Water, water for my sisters! Whose mouth flows like the waterfalls of the Rose country, and their gossip is second to no one’s in all the realms,” Akinori says loudly, pleased when servants bring in a tray of water right away. One after the other, the siblings drink, then hug and kiss goodbye for the night. 

Shikika is the first to go. Fuyuko and Natsuko follow behind. Haruka is the last to leave, and she winks at Akinori.

“Very proud of you, little brother. Continue your ways tomorrow as well. We children will be out on our royal tour through the city. Each and every brother will be stolen away—birds and all—except one. Ignore him as much as you like. Don’t make it too easy for him! The palace will be yours as most of it empties out to join us.”

Akinori nods, face warm. Haruka closes the door, and he’s left alone. Moving over to the bed, he doesn’t spare the single branch in the bowl a glance, glad his sisters didn’t comment on it further. His fingers tingle from the wine, and when he removes his clothes, he loves the slide of chiffon against his naked skin. Naked, he takes the long scarf that floated behind him half the night, and takes it to bed. The scent of dinner rests within, and he inhales it deeply as he drifts to sleep. 

The next day, Akinori is in no hurry to get up. The servants bring a note from his mother; she’s taken Shikika’s and Haruka’s council, to exclude Akinori from breakfast, and allow him to have it in his room. It’s all part of the game, and his mother loves games above everything. Smiling, Akinori gets up when the sun rises high. Dressed, he calls for breakfast, happy when he watches Haruki swaggering along side of it. Yamato brings the tea himself, clinking the cups before they all take a sip.

“What’s the news?” Akinori says, as the royal breakfast must have finished by this hour. He feels giddy watching Haruki's face change into evil. 

“Despite your absence, the queen kept your honorary seat. As such, Tatsuki was placed in front of it. He was looking around for half an hour. When we walked in, Yamato noticed him rising to stand up. As no one followed, he just sunk into his chair as if he changed his mind. Not once did he or his family ask for your whereabouts. Our sweet king then gestures for a servant, you know, where he acts out receiving a message? And then told the Tulip line you weren’t well enough to eat.”

Yamato shakes his head. “I do not know what it is with these mountain-folk but, they hate talk of ailment? Any time something like that comes up, the entire line from king to Tatsuki grows pale. They look at us as if we dealt the greatest blow. Plus Suna looks like he swallowed a whole lemon.”

“I noticed that too!” Haruki says, quickly explaining to Akinori that Suna was the attendant with the dark hair, and Komori the one with the brown hair.. The three of them wonder if perhaps the mountain people aren’t used to getting sick. Or if sickness arrives that couldn’t be helped with their tulips, it was taken very seriously.

Akinori takes a look from his window as he finishes eating. Their own carriages were still being readied; he couldn’t see them, but sound travels up the palace on this side. He pours more tea to aid his throbbing head, so happy that he can stay in for the early morning.

“Saru, please stand guard down the hallway? I want to know when my sisters leave, so I can watch everyone exit the palace.” Yamato does as he’s told with a small bow. Not all his sisters were in the same corridor. Shikika and her family had moved to another wing post her marriage. 

Haruki nods his chin to the door. “Want me to stand outside, just in case?”

Akinori thinks about it, then agrees. 

And not a second too late. As a servant clears the table from breakfast remnants, Akinori hears how on the other side of the door, Haruki argues and denies entrance. The voice Akinori hears might be Motoya's; his sounds soothing and chipper, unlike that dark-haired fellow. Akinori doesn’t have to perk his ears or drift close to the open door to hear what’s being said. He finds a spot to remain well-hidden in his room. Haruki sends the other boy away and later tells Akinori all that transpired in detail. Tatsuki wanted to know how he was doing, if he was okay. Haruki reveals nothing.

All Akinori can think, as bitter as the aftertaste of the last of his tea, is how Tatsuki hasn’t come himself.

Later Yamato's message alerts Haruki and Akinori that the sisters have left their rooms. Akinori walks out to watch from the top of the stairs as a large procession exits the palace for a tour through the city. No one sees him, as no one expects him to be hidden behind a column. The peaking glances he takes show the same darkness of mountain sons, against the colourful attires of the valley daughters. There’s birds on the shoulders of the Tulip children.

Akinori stays behind his hidden spot, to later also watch the queen and the kings walk out. Advisors surround them, calling out the family names of politically important people that the highest royal heads will visit on their more private tour of the city.

As the last of the advisors leaves after them and the guards close the doors, Akinori moves to hide back in his room. He gives Haruki and Yamayo the morning off, and instructs the servants and guards standing duty in this hallway to not let anyone bother him unless it is national catastrophe level. 

Tatsuki might not come at all as Haruki rejected the messenger earlier. Akinori can’t help but feel even more bitter at that. At least he could try to win Akinori over!

*

*

One procession after the other exits the palace, one larger than the other. From the sides, Tatsuki watches in the shadows, his arms crossed. Komori stands more in the sun, his large frame going unnoticed. Suna makes his home in the dark too, playing around with his double swords. He was allowed to have them back, as long as he doesn’t bring them to any gatherings of the families. Motoya's war-hammer was still held hostage in their own carriages, argued too big and heavy to be lugged around in the palace.

When the bustle of this fragile place comes to a halt and nature sounds return to the morning, Tatsuki turns away from the white halls.

“Let’s go.” 

Rintarou and Motoya flank him. No one stops them as they make their way to the 32 carriages. Some of them were owned by the house of Tulips. But most had been borrowed; as soon as they had left the mountains, many of their own travel carriages were too blocky and heavy to make the journey at a fast pace. They were left behind at the fields, traded in for swifter and lighter models. Thanks to the Chrysanthemum house, Tatsuki thinks. The carriages were even coloured in the house colours of the Tulips, bearing banners of the flower from side door to side door. 

He looks at them now, and the daunting task ahead of him.

After 15 carriages, Tatsuki wonders what he hopes to find. And what could he even take? A trunk? They were large, heavy, and beautiful. And dark, with the Tulip crest on each. But what good could that do…Akinori might not have need for anything like that. Surely, his rooms were outfitted with furniture, or perhaps not? Maybe his rooms were sparse, as all the daughters were more important, even the youngest one. Tatsuki reminds himself not to think of Fuyuko as the ‘last’.

Sitting back, Tatsuki looks at the banner stretching over the window door. Tapings, craftings, homemade specialities. What in the name of the petals would be good enough?

“Find anything?” Komori asks from the other carriage door. Tatsuki shakes his head.

“Whatever I think up, I can only see him scoffing it off as an insult to his name.”

Tatsuki looks back at the trunk. He could gift Akinori an entire room, but would it be well-received? And those gifts would take a long time to be made, to be brought. Mayhaps before even the wood for it could be gathered, Akinori would reject him to his face—or worse—to Tatsuki’s father's face. Or worse than that; have Queen Konoha do the rejecting for him.

“I’d say our fabrics might be a nice gift, but hell, they all don’t seem that keen on dark colours,” Suna rants, as the trio leave carriage numbers 15 to 17, as Komori has checked 16 for himself and only found his war-hammer and a few of other weapons stored. “Weapons are no option either. What is that kid even good at, do we know?”

Suna asks, as if any of them would at this early stage.

Their family and court knew that there would be spies making sure that the Tulip’s claim of a proposal to marriage was truly honourable. His father hadn’t minded; after all, it was a smart strategy and very protective thinking. Alas, the Tulip house didn’t hold much to spies, and so they didn’t have any of their own. And the king had forbade it to send the birds up into any rooms.

Tatsuki raises his head to the overhead blue sky. He presses his hands against the next carriage, letting Suna and Komori search the insides for anything useful. Usefulness. That was his one way to present himself, the one way Tatsuki thought he should give away gifts. He had no riches, no relics. Himself and his strength were more than enough. Nothing else was needed. He couldn’t give himself to Akinori though, not yet. Maybe he should find a way into that boy’s room, find out about the interior, what he might need or may like.

Birds fly overhead, white doves. Tatsuki’s eyes squint at their form. Would Akinori appreciate white doves? Probably not.

“You know, you could just tell him that with your rank, you’re not entitled to expensive stones, golden statues, or to give away showy weaponry…” Suna pouts alongside him, trying to help. 

“I don’t think it would make a good impression on that prince,” Komori interjects, jumping off the carriage. “And we’re already in a deficit in that regard. Hmm, wait...do you think… would he have expected a tulip?” Komori wonders, and Suna blanks. Tatsuki shakes his head. It would have been a small matter to bring a tulip. Back in his mind, Tatsuki had thought of it. It would be a nice gift; just not as appropriate at the start of a courtship. His silence leads his friends to continue on. They switch carriages, fanning out to find something faster.

There’s nothing. 

Tatsuki thinks of the great sword Onaga made, with metal provided from all of Tatsuki’s brothers to impress the queen. It did him no good. If only he’d known about the queen not touching weapons, or how spoiled Akinori was. Wait no, he isn’t spoiled. That was the point. He was a prince, the only one, but he doesn’t receive gifts or adoration like his sisters. Tatsuki grunts, throwing down a fur blanket in carriage number 19. It was way too warm here, and he had no clue if a present made from fur would only worsen his chances.

King Tetsuya had been clear about this from the start; Tatsuki would receive nothing, and had to win over the son of the Chrysanthemum house for himself, by himself.

“There’s nothing here,” he says, hating himself for it. There’s nothing he could get from outside the walls, as the land isn’t his own. Nor from the city which Akinori knows all too well. “Bloody unblooming flowers,” Tatsuki curses. He’s heard Akinori say petal-curses, and heard mutterings from servants under their breath too. It was a welcome change to what he’d expected this palace to be like, to hear variations or exactly the same curse words coming from within the white palace. It was calming to know that their countries shared that cultural aspect.

The Tulip sons were instructed to be careful about uttering curses, no matter the situation. They hadn’t known how the Chrysanthemum house might react, if it perhaps was forbidden or looked down upon. The tutors of their same age weren’t that acquainted with curse culture in other nations, and therefore, the brothers vowed to restrain their natural ways.

Tatsuki lets his knuckles ram on the final carriage, cursing loudly. He’s found nothing but himself at the end of a long line. _How poetic_. Worthless and empty-handed, none the wiser what to do about Akinori and giving him something wonderful. They hadn’t brought the tulips for so many reasons, but Tatsuki would give a finger to have even one. Then again…what would one tulip mean to Akinori? Tatsuki’s shoulders sink, his brain working hard to come up with something, anything.

*

*

Akinori looks forward to his noon time spent in the libraries; but first he makes sure that his ball outfit for the night is unparalleled by anything done in the past. It’s been some time since a Chrysanthemum son was so sought after. His marriage not holding that kind of importance was a freedom for years. Akinori didn’t mind the switch to what he has now. Knowing which outfit is the winner, he walks the hallway towards his room. He’s overcome with giddiness for what he will wear, to make even more of an impression in front of the whole court. 

The dressers had met him at another part of the castle. Akinori detours to his room to retrieve a notebook and pencil for his afternoon between library stacks.

Yesterday night they hardly saw as much as they would tonight. Akinori hopes he can make Tatsuki blush, stammer, and knock him down another few notches! Tatsuki was a silent guy, but Akinori wants to make him speechless; kill those snappy comebacks right in the throat. Akinori has spent little time thinking how to make Tatsuki lose his ability to speak or breathe with other methods; it was too early for that. Thinking of it now brings a smile to Akinori’s face. He should find that one secret book about sex techniques again. Its whereabouts were in his notebook.

Opening the door on that thought, a smiling Akinori comes face to—

There was no face. Only shoulders, back, rear and legs. Strong calf muscles get his attention before Akinori’s eyes run back up, giving 2 seconds of thought to those perfectly trained glutes. _Oh Ninetails of the Vixen, what have you done_.

All naked.

The last son of the line of Tulips stands in Akinori’s room, his clothes nowhere in sight. Holding the door open, his mouth wide, Akinori first closes the last, not allowing a curse to rise from his throat. Coming to his senses, Akinori leans out towards the servant closest to him.

“No visitors!” Akinori yells, hoping his face gives nothing away to the servant. “Any comers should knock nine times before entering! It is my wish,” he says at last, rushing inside the door and slamming it shut. Eyes on the white wood, Akinori tries for a steadying breath before turning around. Tatsuki’s face is now visible over the broad shoulder, looking at him like nothing is wrong in the world. Akinori stares over the entirety of him once more: the broad back slimming down to the hips, the bare ass on full display, strong thighs and calves, down to the bare feet. The slight turn reveals that Tatsuki holds his clothes in his hands. Has he undressed seconds before Akinori came in?

“That timing is incredible,” Tatsuki says with composed ease, like he’s not standing naked in the middle of Akinori’s room. Shock still persistently screams in his mind, Akinori speeds forward.

“What in the name of all the nine tails are you doing here!?” Akinori says, invoking the goddess’ power to give him strength in this fresh new ordeal. Akinori wishes he hadn’t asked.

Maybe then, Tatsuki wouldn’t have turned around fully. _Bloody blooming fields of summer._ As he does, a grey tunic drops to the floor, and Tatsuki’s arms hang at his sides. He hides virtually nothing. Akinori looks at the center of Tatsuki’s body first, then quickly brings his eyes up to that unblinking face of a hawk. Tatsuki isn’t smiling nor scowling. He looks perfectly at ease, wearing nothing. Akinori’s mouth closes and opens, not sure how to act or what to say. A string of curses come to mind, but also a prayer of blessing.

“You mentioned wanting to see the ‘goods’ before purchase. This is me, hiding as well as a slug in the sun.”

In his room! Naked! And Akinori doesn’t appreciate the word ‘slug’ being said in so smug a way. He forces his eyes to stay on Tatsuki’s. To not peek again. If Akinori looks down once more, he might die. To make matters worse, Tatsuki closes the respectable distance Akinori created—making it less respectable and very much dangerous. Akinori figures that if he retreats, he loses. So he keeps his chin up, assembles his face into non-caring—acting like this happens every day and he’s gotten sooo used to it. He successfully stares up at Tatsuki as if there’s nothing to see here. The fields will have him before he succumbs to embarrassment.

He does have nice shoulders. Akinori lets himself think of that, and of no other limb or sight he’s seen a moment ago.

“I have come here to assure you that I am fit in health and body. There shouldn’t be a hint in your mind that you may be disappointed on the wedding night, _if_ we come to that.” When the mountain son got so sultry and forward, Akinori has no idea. Hadn’t he left him standing at the balcony? Ignored him at the dinner last night? Not seeking him out at court or when he was at the carriages? Oh those spies...they were gossipers first and worthy of their fox goddess love throughout; they had let Akinori know where to find Tatsuki. Promised to distract those attendants away. Akinori was in the middle of looking for fabrics at the dressers, and there was no way he’d come to this guy first.

Perhaps that strategy had been wrong. Akinori hopes that him swallowing all insane thoughts down and keeping his posture graceful and strong could help him out now. If only he could think of something to do or say...make light of this situation. But for once, his mind draws a blank. And in that white void, the images of what’s right in front of him in all their glory appear.

At last, the corner of Tatsuki’s mouth quirks upwards. “For someone who wanted to see, you’re doing awfully little to look at what's on the offer.”

Akinori huffs. He sure remembers that Tatsuki implied that if any undressing would happen, it would be them both. Finding himself at a sore disadvantage, Akinori does what he came to his room to do—he finds his notebook on a small desk. Walking over there, he realizes he must do something. Retaliate. Fight fire with fire. But Tatsuki wouldn’t be ready for this; the fires the fox goddess conjured burned brighter, golden, and were blinding to the human eye.

If Tatsuki thinks he could come into the realm of the Konoha family, a visitor to their city, and infiltrate Akinori’s room...he would have another thing coming. With his back turned because his father tried for years to give Akinori some sense of modesty, he changes out of his clothes. He keeps his eyes on the desk, having it ground him as one piece of fabric after the other falls unceremoniously to the floor. There goes his plan to stun Tatsuki with the revealing outfit tonight! But it couldn’t be helped if Tatsuki brought the battle early. Akinori inhales softly as his fingers curl under his underwear. He bends his back when he pushes it down, feeling the strength of his tattoo flow through him. If he could withstand that pain, he’d withstand anything.

At last, he holds his underwear in his hand. With a smile, Akinori faces Tatsuki, glad to see that little grin off his lips. From his finger, Akinori lets his underwear drop to the floor. At least, he will have this. It may be in the privacy of his rooms, but Akinori will not let himself be outdone by foreign entities and their weird ways of holding one’s promises. 

“Memory serves to remind me that you requested equality in knowing what’s on the table and…under it,” Akinori says, with more bravado than he feels. But he feels odd and out of place. Somehow, Tatsuki not smiling dampens his brave mood. As soon as he’s naked and there for Tatsuki to look at, he changes his mind. He doesn’t actually want those eyes to observe too much or too closely. It’s so—not royal for them to do this! Or at least, Akinori would have hoped to have some sort of upper hand when it came to this stuff.

Somehow, Akinori’s wish is granted. Maybe, while he undressed, Tatsuki already had gotten his fill of looking because he just stares into Akinori’s eyes. It could be that the expectant faces the unexpected. There was no ‘upper hand’ now. Akinori feels a bit cold though, wishing he’d just swagger over to his clothes and change into his afternoon tea outfit for the day ahead of time. He can’t however. Tatsuki closes the previously lost, now dangerous little distance that existed between them.

“To know or to not know...we can never assume what is more exciting, or more treacherous,” Tatsuki says. He retrieves his clothes from the ground, and to Akinori’s relief, hides behind a folding room-divider to get dressed again. Akinori allows himself one last peek at the fine ass, then quickly averts his eyes when Tatsuki is behind the divider.

Akinori speedwalks to his wardrobe, hoping his light summery clothes are quicker on him than the mass of stuff the Washio family puts on. It’s when the final piece of ornamental fabric graces his shoulders that Akinori repeats Tatsuki’s words in his mind. It was nonsense, naturally. ‘To know’ was always better! Akinori has no idea what Tatsuki meant by it being treacherous. That was of course the moment that Akinori’s head fills with the image of what Tatsuki’s impressive length looks like. The blush he’s been fighting all this time burns through his skin.

He gets it under control in time to see Tatsuki out of the door. Well, he got part of his wish; Tatsuki was speechless, silent, and there was a nice lack of comeback. And yet Akinori wishes it was different; holding the door open, he watches Tatsuki walk out without another word. Looking past the door, Akinori watches those long strides and purposeful intensity once more completely covered up stalk off the corridor.

When he’s gone, Akinori snaps his fingers to get the sentries’ and servants' attention. “Not a word to my sisters, or it’s curses for all of you at the next ceremonial dance I do!”

*

*

Tatsuki storms into the room given to him, holding his hand up to Komori and Suna rising from their seats.

“Not a word.”

What was he thinking? He hadn’t thought, that was it. Impulses ruled him since he stepped through those doors and into the throne room filled with tulle, white, and pleasant scents. The sight of flesh from yesterday night still fresh on his mind was just another catalyst for the bad decision he made. Unable to know what went through Akinori’s head, what he wanted. Tatsuki had come into Akinori’s room by pretending the prince had something of his. Whatever must have gone through the guards and servants’ minds was equally a mystery. What they must be thinking with Tatsuki leaving Akinori’s room. He hadn’t spent much time with the prince there...

It seemed so plausible at the time. Tatsuki had nothing to give to Akinori in this time of courtship. Only himself. He had thought about their conversation, and started undressing. Pondering, naked in Akinori’s room, what possessed him, Tatsuki had wanted to put his clothes back on and leave like he’s never been there. 

Then the door opened, and a cool façade switched back over the worries and the lack of knowing his opponent.

Standing in front of a window so different from his own, Tatsuki glances over the palace grounds. His brothers would return soon, but none of them could give him aid. This was his own fight—and once more—he feels that today’s battle was a draw. He thinks back on seeing a single branch on Akinori’s otherwise neatly kept desk, with no clue what to make of it, and no moment to ask Akinori about it.

Bringing a hand over his mouth, Tatsuki’s mind flashes to Akinori’s moving backside. Yesterday when Akinori left the dining table, he showed off a hint of colours, inked into his skin. Tatsuki’s flesh thrums in waves, shuddering at what he now knew was a tattoo covering most of Akinori’s back. A field of Chrysanthemum. He didn’t know if it was an exact copy of their house flag, or if it was a different design. Knowing it was there was one thing. Wanting to know how it would feel under his fingertips, moving, writhing— 

“Anything on the matter of tonight’s garments?” Tatsuki asks, distracting his mind from the naked and bringing it back into clothed realities. Komori stands at his flank.

“The King’s eagle has done it’s rounds with information to all the sons. He assumes that our attires are too dark, too closed up, and much too warm for this climate—meaning both the temperatures as well as the people. We are instructed to…open up. For tea, one less layer. And then tonight,” Komori grins when Tatsuki faces him.

“Tonight, we dress for the dance the way we dress at home before a battle?” Tatsuki asks, the answer a wide smirk on Motoya's and Rintarou’s faces. If only they knew that Tatsuki already showed the person mattering most all there was to see. At least, he could surprise the Chrysanthemum court. “Very well, it will be as the King commands us.”

Tatsuki doesn’t tell them. He’d only face mockery and pity. He makes Suna find an appropriate attire for the afternoon tea. Once that is sorted he plays cards with his friends, waiting for the return of his family. Trying not to think too much of Akinori’s pretty backside.

*

The talk goes over Tatsuki’s head, who doesn’t have much to offer in the way of chit-chat. This court has made it a mastery. To always ask questions, to actually listen, and to then give their own opinion in a respectable manner. Little was asked of Tatsuki, thankfully. After the siblings returned from the tour of the city, and their parents from visiting politicians in their houses, the families of both sides gathered for an afternoon tea. Barkbeak sits on the table, after it has come clear to the queen and king of house Chrysanthemum that the eagle usually was as close as possible to his master.

Sitting across from Akinori, Tatsuki watches how one man consumes the contents of one tea pot all by himself. Akinori has drunk more tea than any other guest at this table. He’s excused himself to the bathroom more times than Tatsuki wants to count.

Each and every time he gets up, Tatsuki does as well. Takeji told him it was common courtesy, just in case Akinori invites him elsewhere. And every time, Tatsuki slowly sits down; feeling stupid when faced with Akinori’s bemused reaction, but his family’s too. The table loves it, finding it very chivalrous of him to mimic Akinori like that. Show him such respect. Tatsuki shakes his head, mentally. The problem is that every time Akinori gets up, Tatsuki watches those flimsy fabrics float behind him. They weren’t as see-through as the other night. He’s well hidden under the clothes. In Tatsuki’s mind, the knowledge of what lies beneath it all ruptures him in two. He wants to scream, bang his head, call himself the most stupid moron in all the realms.

He thought it was just a bit of fun to turn up naked in Akinori’s rooms. It’s not like Akinori and he had agreed to do this, to show each other everything. Still, Tatsuki’s intention was to make sure that Akinori knows how good-looking and well-endowed Tatsuki is. That he could make the man who chooses him very happy. Maybe he wanted to show off his physique, fueled by the idea of them actually coming to terms and agreeing to a union. After all, Akinori hasn’t outright rejected the idea. He and his family agreed to let Tatsuki and his family come for a visit. In the throne room, Akinori could have thrown a spoiled fit, act the brat, say he wasn’t interested as soon as he saw Tatsuki. He could have sent them all packing, before even the bags were at the accommodations of their stay.

At every point, Akinori could say no. Could tell his Queen Mother he wasn’t in for it. 

Tatsuki doesn’t know what his chances are. Assumptions didn’t win wars. And yet his gut-feeling told him a spark was there. Something that could bloom into fireworks, to die in slow ashes and in old age. Is it his own wishful thinking? Is Tatsuki the one so vain and conceited to think that showing his body would forge the deal like unbreakable stone?

Akinori returns, but doesn’t sit before calling for more tea. If this behaviour was odd, none of his sisters displayed worry or noticed it. Tatsuki looks at each, the family resemblance and differences in age very clear. He was still confused as to how this house arranged seating their children. He cannot get used to it. The youngest sister sat one way, the second youngest another. 

“Pardon me, I think I might have gotten a flu of the bladder,” Akinori says, sending the entire Tulip side of the table into a shocked silence. Tatsuki blinks, hearing Suna go ‘what the -’ without finishing that sentence. Staring at Akinori, Tatsuki cannot fathom...Did he just say that out loud, in front of everyone!?

“Oh dear, how come?” Queen Konoha asks, patting her napkin onto her lips. Akinori shrugs his shoulders, then looks back at Tatsuki.

“Might be a sudden cold wind. You know how _those_ go. I think I was idling at the open window when getting dressed for tea. I am not sure!” Akinori says towards his sisters, who all nod in agreement or advise him which teas would have him best. To Tatsuki’s right, his brother Tetsuya leans in close.

“Is he really discussing an ailment and a weakened body like any common table conversation?”

“...It appears so,” Tatsuki murmurs back. The sisters laugh and Haruka reaches over to hit Akinori upside the head for his forgetfulness. 

Tetsuya leans back, signalling a secret message to the rest. ‘Act normal’, it means. They were in a different country with entirely different customs and behaviours, after all. And as much as the talk of bladders wouldn’t be even discussed among the brothers in private, they were the outsiders. The visitors. The ones who would give away a son in return for trade routes, easier travelling carriages, and political power that came with it. 

To Tatsuki’s shock, his father speaks directly to Akinori. “Your sisters and of course yourself aren’t wrong…about the teas. In our house, we have learned that the best treatment to your problem is…cranberry juice.”

The line of Chrysanthemum lights up at new knowledge. Cranberries they have in spades, and soon servants are sent to prepare a jug for Akinori. Around them, the court takes up the thread of healing properties and berries, quickly exchanging recipes. The topic is so easily swayed away from the sickness of a boy, to the right measurements to make fig cake. Cooking wasn’t a speciality of Tatsuki’s, but two of his older brothers were soon in deep conversation. Advisors and servants behind them from their own court enact the scribbling of any golden piece of advice.

As the conversation moves to a more acceptable table conversation, Tatsuki finds himself staring at Akinori.

And Akinori, drinking large gulps of his cranberry water, looks away pointily. If this continues, the night’s dance would be awfully fun; emphasis put on ‘awful’.

*

*

Yamato and Haruki take over the duties of dressing Akinori for this occasion. Outside, the lights change, and from a great distance Akinori can hear the musicians practicing their craft. In honour of the two sons during their courtship, his mother announced that the city should join in the festivities, having dances and balls of their own.

“This is so difficult,” Haruki mutters under his breath, trying his best at the 9-pointed knot. Akinori stays still, not bothering the deft fingers of his friend. Dressers of their court would only do this for the daughters of their line. It wasn’t reluctance holding them back to do the same for Akinori, but decorum. It simply wasn’t the way of their people. And still, Akinori’s sisters insist he tie the knot of nine broad bands of chiffon and tulle, one strand for each of their goddess’ tails.

“Did the prince—I mean, the eh, suitor? Has he been informed about the opening dance?”

Akinori grins. “No, he hasn’t. It will be a surprise to the tall Tulip in his prime.” Akinori’s revenge knows no bounds. From the open window comes the scents of perfumery as the walls of their palace are blessed with prosperity and hope. His father’s idea. The scent is never too overwhelming as the flowers from the harvest are sent towards the ballroom. Akinori wishes he could oversee the decorations like he usually does, pre-drinking with Yamato and Haruki.

Gazing at his bed, Akinori’s eyes fall over the special sash his mother has made for the occasion. The front of it is a thick fabric like all the sashes created for their household. The lining was a thread of gold and iridescent colours. The Vixen with the cup was threaded in the same colours, small and in the middle of his chest. At the back there was a lighter tulle fabric, to make sure his tattoo shows through. The heavier fabric of the sash would come over his shoulder, to ensure there’s no sagging down. Akinori stares at the barely there patterns. His sash was usually completely white, to show the absence of the holy blood of the goddess. 

Tonight would be different. His sash would signify what he does have—what he is—in a more positive light.

What he has. Oh, if only he didn’t know what Tatsuki was endowed with! All the tea in the world couldn’t drown him away from the knowledge. The many bathroom breaks during the afternoon tea were more to control Akinori’s breathing and steady his heart. Tatsuki had mentioned treacherous knowledge…Akinori now knows exactly the meaning of that! Still… Akinori would dance and tease, be as revealing and hinting to the imagination, never mind what Tatsuki had seen already. 

“Ha-hah! Finally got it,” Komori says, stepping aside to let Akinori turn and approve it. Excited, Akinori turns around completely, watching the trails of 9 thin veils float about. Attire like this was only seen on him every 9 years; after he would discard the heavy hakama during the dance. And never this revealing. A dance like he will perform tonight was yet unknown to his muscles, but he was sure he’d rise to the occasion if only to make Tatsuki blush.

“My prince, you look stunning,” Yamato says. Haruki with his hands on his hips nods in agreement. Akinori allows a sly smile to rest on his features, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

“That mountain court has no idea what they’re in for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omfg so next chapter...the balll...i won't say nothing but it's so good and one of my fave parts honestly!


	3. Blossom and flurry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night of the ball, a dance between the sons of both regentdoms. There is so much for the eyes to see, more for the ears to hear, and impossible things for fingers to touch.
> 
> The day is for the Stables; strength contests and arrow shooting reveal more about their characters.
> 
> Once it becomes night again, Tatsuki cannot stop his mind from forming all together different thoughts on the other prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly the ball...I loved writing that from start to end. The stables were fun too! I love Akinori with a bow and arrow uvu

Tamafumi was the first to mutter the nickname ‘Party Palace’ under his breath, and it was soon picked up by all the others. Tatsuki looks up in time to watch their father turn around and silence them all. Barkbeak watches them still as their father walks ahead. His sons follow behind, leaving Tatsuki at their rear. It feels different in this palace, to be behind them all. It has a different meaning than at home where it was natural for Tatsuki to come in last.

Here, it's like what the Chrysanthemum house would call ‘honouree’; to be shown at last like a surprise. To have his words and deed and entrances be more impactful to the court, and to the man he wishes to make his.

Flanked by Rintarou and Motoya, Tatsuki passes the many open archway windows in this passage. The music from the designated ballroom reaches them already. On this side of the palace, lantern lights hang in different pink and yellow hues, alighting their passage.

Komori watches over the balustrade on their left. He chose lighter garments for tonight as well, while Rintarou wouldn’t be swayed away from long sleeves. A visible shiver comes over Komori as a breeze travels from the small archways. It does nothing to Tatsuki’s skin, which is mostly bare from the waist up.

“Oooh, there’s a courtyard?”

“A ceremonial one. You can’t see it from here, but this fabled ‘Stables’ aren’t too far off,” Tamafumi says, from the middle of their group. Taisuke, who walks close behind their brother Tetsuya, whispers something which makes most of Tatsuki’s brothers laugh. When their eyes close in mirth, the black eyeshadow on their eyes becomes more visible. Rintarou and his good ears explain to Tatsuki that the brothers can’t help but look forward to what Haruka and her sisters have to offer. It was a friendly rivalry bubbling up between the siblings of both houses. 

Rintarou falls silent, and Tatsuki’s mind does too. If only _he_ could regain a friendly rivalry with Akinori once more. Holding his head up high, he will do his best to use the dance as an opportunity.

They had changed clothes between the afternoon tea, a more private dinner with a smaller court, and then to this. Tatsuki touches the sash of black lined with grey patterns. Under it, forming an X, black tulle goes from the other shoulder down to the opposite hip. A gift from the court, but little could they have known Tatsuki would put in on so soon. None of his brothers had it, singling him out. All his brothers wore the X’s without the sash, having thick garments going from the shoulders to the hips. It had been the idea of the Tulip’s house court-dressers to let Tatsuki wear the same tulle fabric as was seen on the prince. To have the sash be part of the X. It would show the intent to mix their families. Tatsuki’s hand brushes the Tulip in the middle of the sash. May the red petals give him strength…

Arriving at the doors of the ball, an advisor of the Chrysanthemum court awaits them. His surprise is the first indicator of many more to come; Tatsuki sees how he looks over all their faces and outfits. An advisor from their own house converses with him, seeing to introductions to the floor. The king will not deign to dance himself, and was excused by the court manners here, who indicated the same for the other house was very much true.

It’s one of the times that Tatsuki hears the word ‘line’ in place of house. Weren’t all realms’ royal families a house? 

Tatsuki feels Rintarou’s and Motoya’s hands on his skin, as they pat him good luck. In front of the open doors, Komori turns to Tatsuki, pulling his chin to look him over once more. Smiling, Motoya then follows Rintarou. They go in first, to stand with the other non-royals of the house Tulip. Bright light casts upon them. Left behind alone for his entrance, Tatsuki allows one more shuddering breath in and out. He fills his lungs with courage and the knowledge that he is strong, and shouldn’t be afraid of a dance.

Even if that dance would involve a tricky prince with a taut body and a gorgeous tattoo on his back.

Before he even enters, he hears the music and murmur of the court change. Entering, Tatsuki sees at once that there is a second storey above him; up ahead, he can see a chandelier with yellow stones hanging alone in the middle of a gallery. The upper floor seems empty. Under it, surrounding what might be the dance floor he cannot see yet, are tables. They’re empty, as everyone in the room is standing. Looking at him. Tatsuki quickly takes his place besides Tetsuya, who smiles at him.

“Looks like tonight we are severely underdressed,” he jokes into Tatsuki’s ear, meaning the absence of garments to cover them. Their father, dressed fully but in lighter fabrics, bows his head to Queen Konoha, who stands as well and does the same from behind the table. He then joins the rules of this Queendom, leaving his sons behind to drink and dance to their heart’s content. At least, that was the custom in their own Kingdom. No one mingles upon the final son’s entry. They all stand so very still, unlike the other times Tatsuki has met with the court.

Tatsuki’s eyes sweep the room, doing his best to not make eye contact with anyone. He finds the colourful sisters soon enough, and a void of white in their midst. It captures Tatsuki’s attention completely, his eyes not once going astray. Akinori’s head and body is hidden behind a thick white veil; what’s below is indecipherable from this distance. Tatsuki feels his eyelashes blink slowly, before he restrains them to remain open—he knows this battle too well; ‘Blink and you’ll die’. But Akinori is hidden behind a thick veil, and not even that smile of his is allowed to come through. 

Bowing to the floor at large, Tatsuki takes a tentative step forward, counting the seconds it would take for the advisors and rules of both houses to speak. Queen Konoha stands up from her seat, halting his movements with her voice.

“In the many ways that we differ, we may find specks of the same. Like petals breezing through the fields, or a feather lost high in the mountain. Joyous is the announcement that both our wonderful lines bear one tradition that is the same in every way. Dear court, lovely guests, please hold away from the dance floor. The…precious boys we have all come to see tonight, will now participate in what the Tulip Kingdom names their ‘dance of prosperity’, and which is known to us as the ‘court homecoming dance’,” the queen says, her hand outstretched to Akinori.

It was true that the Tulip house had this tradition...but not at the very start of a ball. Not when everyone was watching like this.

Tatsuki’s feet do not betray his indecision and thought. He continues to the middle of the floor, arriving first. There he is made to wait for the other prince, whose sister pulls back the veil. He too wears a sash like Tatsuki; a heavy fabric slung over the chest. Tatsuki makes his eyes hone in on the details; the Kitsune holding a cup in the middle, the thin thread. 

Below the sash lies a different kind of fabric; it drops from the shoulder down to the chest and under the sash. It rises up on the other side, snaking around to the back again. Tatsuki’s eyes have followed what Akinori wears, now immediately aware of how little else there is he’s wearing. When his mind catches up to what he’s seeing, Tatsuki takes a slow breath.

His eyes roam the bare arms and legs, the chest that wears even less than Tatsuki’s. And the fabric is nothing but that same see-through chiffon; unlike what hung from the throne-room on Tatsuki’s first arrival. This fabric, like that worn yesterday at dinner, seems soft to the touch. The chiffon now clings to every curve and sharp edge Akinori has, hardly moving as Akinori walks forward. Akinori makes one body swirl to let a knot of tulle flow behind him. 

The court claps, and Tatsuki’s mind emerges from the muddy waters of yearning it has been taken down to, awake at once. In time to see the back tattoo hardly hidden under the back of the sash, see-through as well. At the hips it becomes asymmetrical, showing off one hipbone and its entire upper side. His legs are barely covered by the snug fabric. He wears no shoes.

Awaiting him in the center, Tatsuki’s eyes remain on Akinori, gazing over the outfit that reveals even more than yesterday. It hides barely anything of what Tatsuki has already seen. There is no jewellery to enhance how pretty Akinori already is. A single chrysanthemum flower hangs off the hip where the sash rounds down. Tatsuki’s eyes go up again, noticing that a thin line of colour is upon Akinori’s eyelids. The orange red of this queendom; war makeup of their goddess. 

A deep scent waves off the prince towards Tatsuki. It was the same one in the throne room, the same one at the arches with the harvest. The one that hung in Akinori’s room as well.

Tatsuki puts his fist on his chest, above his heart and beside the sash. He bows forward stiffly, as Akinori’s flat hand does the same, his bow more fluid and graceful, with his leg going behind him. He shows surprise at seeing Tatsuki’s eye make up. Akinori is up first, closing the distance and lifting his arms. He hovers them in the leading position. Tatsuki places them that way without hesitation, careful not to touch the bare flesh; and yet there is so little fabric between his hands and the body below it. His hands are on the chiffon, and he soon adjusts to make it just his fingers touching. 

Akinori’s hand might have hesitated before; but they were bolder; he makes them travel under the black tulle crossing Tatsuki’s back, right on the shoulder blade. The other he places just above Tatsuki’s pants. His thumb finds the dip of Tatsuki’s hipbone. Akinori’s face falls from a smirk into a grimace.

“So your line does know how to spice things up after all,” Akinori says, his nails digging unseen into the shoulder blade. There’s more than a reddish line on the lids, Tatsuki observes. An even thinner line rounds Akinori’s eyes, leaving the inner corners blank. Akinori gazes to his eyes well, more intrigued than surprised. Tatsuki’s own eyes were brushed with black, his undereye fused out to grey and specs of dark blue.

Under the palm, Tatsuki’s muscles move, tense with the sensation of the close touch. Fiddles and harps slowly start for the dance, yet neither of them moves. “Who could have thought that the cold mountaineers have traditions of showing skin..?” Akinori whispers, a glint in his eyes that Tatsuki cannot read.

“I would wish to let you know the heat hailing from the highest mountain top, for my blood flows as red as the tulips that grow there,” Tatsuki whispers, adoring the way Akinori’s skin warms up too. Before the musicians allow the melody to pick up, Tatsuki leans in to let his mouth brush Akinori’s ear. “Your hand is ice, but your face is fire.”

The nails dig into his skin, sharp as claws. The warm face burns alight when Akinori places it atop the sash running over Tatsuki’s shoulder. Tatsuki bows his head, eager to hide it away from the world. Without much thought, their legs move, forward, back, always in sync with each other, without either of them falling into the role of leader or follower. For they can never be either. Sweeping the room, the chiffon tails dance around behind Akinori, and soon Tatsuki counts 9 pieces of the same length. A blessed son of the goddess, who smells as fragrant as the fields his mother commands. 

Careful of the bare feet dancing in front of his, Tatsuki closes the distance ever so lightly. The tips of his fingers press into the barely there fabric of the sash, bringing Akinori’s front closer. He might imagine the gasp, but the feeling of them dancing closer runs hot through Tatsuki’s body. It was weird to do this in front of everyone, when it was the Tulip house’s way of having it a private dance normally...a sort of ‘third date’ dance, when the feelings of both parties were mostly clear.

Nothing in Tatsuki’s head is clear at all.

When they return to the center of the room, Tatsuki wants to step to the side and vanish back into the crowd. Akinori doesn’t let him, clutching his hand. He gives a bow to the rulers of both kingdom and queendom, and Tatsuki is a second behind mimicking the bow. He almost makes the mistake of ending it short; before he can lean back up, Akinori presses his hand. From the unseen front, while Tatsuki’s eyes stay low, footsteps of both houses come forward. Tatsuki hears the footsteps of his brother. This wasn’t a custom in their lands, but surely Tetsuya had been instructed while the dance was in process. But his hands hesitate, as he sees no way to remove the colourful sash.

Bowing still, Tatsuki glances sideways. Akinori’s hand removes itself, and he stands back up. Tatsuki waits as Shikika’s hand takes his sash; they are placed side by side on a small table in front of the one where the kings and queen are sitting. Arrangements of chrysanthemums grace the table on one side. On the other, glass tulips fill the emptiness. In between, the flower that adorned Akinori before had found its own place.

Akinori leans into him. “We thought it would be disrespectful to put all our flowers on the table, like it’s custom. Anyway, second dance?”

Tatsuki turns his head to Akinori. Has he finally been forgiven for the gifts? He wasn’t sure. Akinori acts more like before that disaster took place. Tatsuki nods, turns back to him. Around the two, more and more couples and trios take the floor, joining hands, or coming close. Less sweeping than before, Tatsuki and Akinori put their arms around each other, once more falling into a rhythm of no leading and no following. They dance to the music, a higher pace, then to a slower one.

From all around, Tatsuki notices the ogling eyes. Akinori receives numerous compliments to his outfit. Some courtiers had no idea he had a tattoo, and dance around them in a way to get a better look. Tatsuki refrains from putting his hand on top, to shield it partially. Akinori isn’t his to protect, not yet. He distracts his eyes to look at the table, which is half filled with royals, as the rest join the dancing.

“I don’t think my eyes will ever adjust to how your house seats themselves.”

Akinori laughs. “There seems no end to our differences. And we don’t call ourselves a ‘house’. We are a long line. Your family should appreciate that. And please, do tell me how it is done within your walls?”

Tatsuki looks down at Akinori, careful to keep their dance to the slow pace. As soon as they start talking, the crowd becomes less dense around them, less invasive.

“A long table, with seats for our king, the sons, and for the family members. We place our table so that it has a head and a tail, hardly ever looking out over the rest of the room like here. At the head, our king sits, at the tail, the queen. They’re coins of the same side, with different duties. The sons sit in rank from first to last, the prince always next to the king. On the other side of the table, counting from the queen’s side, the rank reflects from Princess to the last married spouse. Politicians, advisors, guests; they’re all seated as the king requests it on that day.”

“The queen and the princesses…You left them at home, is it not so? My sisters were sad to see the many carriages empty out without them present.”

Tatsuki explains. “Always one person of the throne must be within the mountain. It does not happen often that all the sons travel at once. As such, all the spouses and children stay within our kingdom to oversee everything while we are gone.” And he misses his mother. She would have been as hard-minded as his father, but she was known to rebel against the rules. She would have helped Tatsuki in his troubles.

Akinori’s face points another way. “I wish I could have met her. You do now understand how important queens and princesses are to us.”

He knows. It had been a tough choice to not bring them too.

“Then again, Vixen save us if you would need more carriages for all of them and what else you brought too,” Akinori laughs, gaining the attention of the dispersed crowd around them. Noticing this, he stops moving, then takes Tatsuki’s hand again. “Come on, let us sit.”

Moving through the crowd with a different purpose, Akinori brings them to the edge. Round tables, partially occupied, stand below the gallery. Above are people as well, drinking and chatting in private. Akinori points to an empty table, and Tatsuki sits himself down in a chair. He watches Akinori instructing a servant to bring refreshments, and then Akinori sits on his left.

“If your royal line would have come to us, and there was no…” He almost says courtship. But how well has he done to earn that word voiced out loud? “If there had been a different reason, we would sit you down on a round table like this; king and queen to the front, and the children in rank from the queen’s side. It would do good to have you as the first born son at your father’s. Then, we would perform a welcoming dance on the first night. Dressed like this, some without the sashes. We cover ourselves in red powders and black charcoal. It’s traditional war makeup. We used less tonight.”

Saying that, Tatsuki gazes at Akinori’s eyes, who lets his eyelids fall with a smile.

“Yes, you would welcome guests into your home with war makeup on. Alas, we know of the same. Haruka adorns red colours when new people come as well, even with no fights in the queendom. We use powders and colours mostly for other reasons though,” Akinori hints, not letting Tatsuki know more than that. Perhaps Akinori chose the lines on his eyes for his very own reason. “Colour us surprised seeing your all-male line walk in with black eye makeup though!”

Tatsuki grins. “Again, our houses...our families do not seem that different at times. It is custom to wear it for gatherings. Evening times, that is. The advisors chose against it during the dinners. With the daughters of your line wearing makeup too, it wouldn’t do for us to wear the black. Alas, I am glad to wear it now. It feels more…complete,” Tatsuki says, gazing at Akinori with all the intent in his bones to let that word hang heavy between them. Akinori brushes it off, pointing to Tatsuki’s eyes.

“The make up is quite heavy, by the looks of it. One more difference. We keep ours light during ceremonies. And we only wear make up akin to our goddess’ face for holy rites or special ceremonies. You heard of our harvest burns. Every year, before the harvest and during new plant season, my sisters dance. They wear masks with the face of the goddess, styled like a fox. Under it, they wear makeup much in the same fashion. When the dance is over, the mask is given away to be burned, to let the ashes and the smoke speak of the goddess and request her blessing for the following months.”

Tatsuki nods. “And you don’t get to participate?”

Akinori sits forward, apparently having waited for this. “Actually, I get a special, sacred dance. Every 9 years, I perform a ritual to offer my humble prayer to the goddess, in front of everyone. The last one I danced was 4 years ago, and it was a spectacle. Given that I wasn’t a child anymore and getting to my adulthood, there were fires and fans.” Akinori leans back, looking very proud. “People talked of my dance even months after.”

Nodding once more, Tatsuki’s gaze drifts to the dance floor.

“There’s...a rumour. Something I read in the scripts too. That when a son of the Chrysanthemum line dances, the goddess of the valley might appear. ‘Like at the birth of a son, the Vixen will sway her Nine tails. To show sadness for not another daughter born, her fury of having her blood not passed down, and to bring prosperity to the lands having not received another daughter.’ When I saw the word ‘line’, I thought it had something to do with the dance,” Tatsuki says, lifting the mood of where his inquiry has let him. He looks at Akinori, and nothing could make him look more like a fox than the way he smiles up to Tatsuki.

“I am aware your mountains lack gods. So perhaps it seems strange that our goddess might descend from the heavens. Especially for someone like me, who has no...No real power. If you’re lucky, you might see that sight for yourself,” Akinori says, leaning back into his seat to observe the dances and drink his wine. The grin he has doesn’t fade, and Tatsuki’s body hums with the want to kiss it away. He furrows his brows as he looks to his front as well.

In groups of now threes and fours, the dancers circle around and around. No one pays the secluded boys at their own table any mind. The parties at the house of Tulips were much gloomier. Tatsuki finds that the beat of the drums echoes in his heart, thrums through his hands and legs. He looks over at Akinori, who puts his glass of cherry wine back to the table. It stains his lips in a way that has Tatsuki’s mind blot out everything else. Akinori’s tongue licks the seams, making that last drop of wine disappear.

Tatsuki feels warm and alive, the want to kiss those lips quickening his heartbeat.

“I would love to see that. Your dance, I mean. It is now…5 years later?”

Akinori’s eyes show so much in a single glance. His lips help the smug visage look all that more appealing. Tatsuki wants to shut him up before even speaking.

“My dance? More so than our goddess hmm? Well, according to tradition—yes it is in 5 years once more.” The last word draws out, not in a slur but in a temptation. Akinori was to Tatsuki a tremendously complex individual. How he holds himself, how he changes and reacts to the smallest things. Tatsuki wants to unravel him; realizing it’s not just about that special knot at Akinori’s lower back, which was a nightmare to decipher anyway. No, he wants to know this man first. Akinori catches him looking down, and his grin widens. 

“Considering if you could open the 9-way knot with your hands? My bets are that you’d rip it. Or perhaps your patience will run out and you’d bring a knife under it?”

Tatsuki, who prides himself on never being the one to look away first, brings his eyes to the banner of the line of Chrysanthemum. He presses his lips closed, not deigning the inquiries with an honest answer. He points at the banner instead, ignoring the audible pout from his side. 

“What is the cup? I couldn’t find anything during my lessons about what it meant,” he says. Akinori takes up his glass again, and at once he leans in close. His arm slides over Tatsuki’s, the wine never abandoned. Turning his head, Tatsuki can smell it from Akinori's breath. It’s not an unpleasant smell.

“They put you in lessons too..?” Akinori says, wonder in his eyes. He disregards Tatsuki’s inquiry completely, to spearhead his own. “Did they teach you anything about me?”

Fingers tapping over his knee, Tatsuki considers between truth and a tease. He smiles.

“It was the idea that I’d learn the basics of your household, but that I’d get to know you by myself.” Their faces are so close, the room around them so occupied with the dances—it’s almost too easy. Tatsuki leans in closer, his lips nearly brushing Akinori’s. “As intimately as I could, for the next few weeks. My tutors said that any information they could get about you might just taint my thoughts. That’s why unlike your family, we didn’t employ any sorts of spies. It is the intent of my house that, the clearer my thoughts were on you, the more blessed an union would be.”

Tatsuki enjoys the blush creeping over Akinori’s cheeks. His eyes go wide a little. But he doesn’t retreat. The grin doesn’t return, even as Akinori turns his face the slightest way to sip his wine. He licks his lips, taking away the seduction for Tatsuki to do it himself.

“Weeks, you say,” Akinori smiles at last. “You’re awfully confident that you will be spending weeks here to court me. One word from me, and all your 32 carriages are sent home without a price won. You are aware of that singular fact, I gather.”

Not moving an inch, Tatsuki’s eyes stare unblinking at Akinori’s sly ones. It was the truth of it, a heavier blow than a tease. And yet, the tone in Akinori’s voice hints that he wouldn’t do such a thing. That there could be no way, right now, that he’d _want_ to send Tatsuki away. Even after the boar incident. Perhaps...Tatsuki has made the right choice standing naked in Akinori’s room. 

Not one to give up battles he thinks he can win, Tatsuki eases his pulse. Bringing his right arm over, he lets the fingers of his right hand run over Akinori’s, which hasn’t moved from his leg.

“If I’d choose a tactic that would bring certain victory in the matter of minutes or hours, what would be the fun in that? No great allegiance between houses has ever been rushed. And no two houses of flowers ever joined their seeds,” Tatsuki says, turning Akinori’s palm up, letting the knuckles on the other side press into Tatsuki’s leg. The final sentence rests heavy between them. His finger draws circles in Akinori’s upturned palm. An unending-line, an everlasting bond; a hole filled by love. 

Akinori’s face turns another shade of pink, almost as deep as the wine he now downs in one go.

“Oooh, _you_ would think my heart to be so easily conquered as that.” The glass comes down in an elegant clink on the table. Akinori draws his eyes away from Tatsuki, without losing a battle of wills or a staring contest. He scans the room, finds it adequate to whatever plans he’s hashing, then gets up. Tatsuki immediately misses the warmth at his side, the hand on his thigh. He has no deities to pray too, and can only hope that he hasn’t made a mistake. Akinori stands, straightens the flimsy excuse he’s put on for clothes, then smiles down at Tatsuki. He turns on his heels next, off under the decorated stone archways, and into the shadows.

Tatsuki scans the room too, making sure no one saw that. Then, in one swift move, he gets up and follows. The hallways surrounding the feast are dark with barely lit candles, to make the light in the dancehall shine brighter. Tatsuki passes sentries of guards posted, their eyes unblinking. It’s not hard to find Akinori’s hair up front, nor his clothes glittering as he rounds a corner. Taking large strides, Tatsuki follows a different passage than from where he came, eager to catch the sly fox.

He comes into an empty hallway. Not only do Akinori’s bare feet give nothing away of his whereabouts; he also has the advantage of being on his home turf. Or what seasoned warriors of the Tulip house would call field superiority. Fires along the walls light it up, casting flickering shadows. Not one belongs to Akinori, and the adrenaline in Tatsuki’s body fades. Has he messed up all his chances again?

“Tulips high and bright as blood, fires shining across the peak,  
Have you seen their evening glow? Even monsters would weep,  
Pollen rise towards the skies, grey and black—black and grey,  
As the mountains hallowed halls, live long on as the tulips never sway.”

The voice sings, hitting the higher notes at the end of every verse with practiced ease. Tatsuki’s stomach turns, as only women at their court sing that beautifully and lyrically. The men, especially the royal Tulips, sing it much deeper. It’s a sound that breeds menacing echoes in the dark. To hear the song of his home, his people, his _house_ , being sung so beautifully by the same sex, and within another royal palace… 

Tatsuki walks forward with a near silent tread. He stares down the hall, to have emptiness beat him at the game. 

From behind a fox statue. Akinori leans his upper body forward. The shadows of the hall do not hide his smile. His makeup looks even more befitting on his face in the dimmer surroundings; its orange glow so bright in the shadows. He has his arms behind him, Tatsuki thinks, and then leans back when Tatsuki reaches closer to him. Finding Akinori leaning against the large stone wall, his arms now crossing his chest, Tatsuki comes to a halt. Back straight, shoulders down, head up, he looks down on Akinori’s grin and the little games he plays.

He wouldn’t apologize for what he said, he figures. Not with words.

“Did I hit the notes right? I only had music scores to understand the crescendo. Having the ‘grey and black’ verses being in D-minors was quite a change,” Akinori says, tilting his head to the side. “Now, to answer a question asked before. What did your tutors tell you about me and the Konoha lineage?”

Standing tall and proud, Tatsuki doesn’t deign to answer. It was the basics, but no hymns. His tutors mentioned no trumpets and drums for visitors coming to court, nor that exact court singing a hymn. He wasn’t told about the dances, sacred prayers, or indeed just how sly and foxy the line of Chrysanthemum could be. There was no mention of how little fabric the son of this line would display himself in, nor how much pride he carries. There was so much he didn’t know and the disadvantage now makes him feel challenged to his bones. Akinori waits for him to speak, tapping one lone finger against his elbow.

“Well? I’d say ‘we don’t have all night’, but then you’d fire back ‘oh, we don’t?’ or some other of your little throwback teases,” Akinori says, his pouting complaints served with pursing lips smiling right after. Tatsuki hates how much he’s known, and how his weapons and pride were now bare and mocked at. A quiet turmoil builds within his chest, a wish to command and conquer—at the same time, the intrusive thought that being commanded and conquered would be equally enjoyable.

No one could have actually prepared him for this man. All of Tatsuki’s assumptions and long thoughts about Akinori before they met made him speak the way he did. Having the assumptions and thoughts speak back…Tatsuki has to change his tactics.

He steps forward, careful to put his feet next to Akinori’s. Bringing his bare arms up, Tatsuki traps him within, putting his hands on either side of Akinori’s shoulders. He enjoys the surprise crossing Akinori’s face, the fear of the unknown reflecting back in those orange-lined eyes. Adrenaline reaches back into Tatsuki’s veins, and he hopes the same is true for the boy in whose space he leans into. At last, Tatsuki brushes his lips against Akinori’s. His fragrance incites for more than this—strong enough to snap any restraint, and all manners. There’s no fight, no push or laugh. When that deep silence settles, the waiting for the unknown making Akinori’s neck hairs stand up, Tatsuki closes his eyes, opens his mouth, and hums the song of his home upon kissed-warm lips.

The hymn is as deep as the caves and the drop of the mountains. It is a bass in his throat that brings out the heat of battle readied warriors before a fight. There’s longing in Tatsuki’s voice, for the beautiful tulips growing only on the most precarious mountain ridges and dips. It is a song to let others know that the men and women of their country will always want to return to see the tulips, and that no other soul could take them. The hallway isn’t the best suited for acoustic perfection, and Tatsuki thanks the different architecture that his voice may not carry to another soul. This is meant for Akinori’s ears only. For his lips alone.

On the final verse, Tatsuki’s voice drops another octave, reminiscent of giants footsteps and the terrifying howl of the wind when it blows through the mountains. Pushing his shoulders, Tatsuki looks at Akinori, to find not the fear of an enemy, but the awe of an ally. Akinori glances up at him, pupils dilated. Pleased with himself, Tatsuki presses a single kiss on Akinori’s high cheek bone.

“Sleep well, my prince. I will leave you in the dark, as you shine bright all by yourself.”

Tatsuki leaves in an instant, trying to map out where he has to go if he rounds the corner of this hallway. He’s glad to find no dead ends, and soon a servant is in reach to make sure he’s not going around the castle. A flame lights in his chest, flickering shadows of want and need in and out of existence. Honour, duty, love, need. The flame isn’t as small as when he first set eyes upon Akinori. It licks at his ribcage, teasing all the dreadful possibilities of becoming a wildfire and burning his heart alive.

*

*

The footsteps fade, and Akinori can hear a second, more lighter thread following along. He’d squint his eyes to make out what is possibly one of his mother’s spies. Instead, Akinori lets out a gasp of air when he’s all alone. His shoulders sink into the stones of his home, but it’s not strong enough to keep him standing. Akinori slumps all the way down. Grasping one hand onto the foot of the fox statue, he looks up to the hidden face.

“What have you brought to me, Vixen of the valley?”

* 

*

The curtains open by a mighty hand as Haruka thunders through Akinori’s sleeping quarters. Sleeping no more, as the bright and early sun shines on his face. There is no turning around to the other side, or hiding under the blanket. Akinori calls out for parley; “I’ll be up in a minute, don’t fret,” he soothes his sister, before his blankets would be taken from him as well. 

Haruka dips down on the other side, patting her hand over the flat parts where Akinori’s body isn’t residing.

“Hm, I lost a bet.”

Akinori’s scalding scowl can barely bring up its full potential this early and without proper sustenance. “Bets with whom and about what?”

The eyes of his sister gaze slowly from the end of the bed up to Akinori. “Shikika was certain you wouldn’t bring that boy to bed, while I was sure you would. Mother’s side bet was that you’d brought him here, but he’d leave early and unseen. So, what is it?”

Rolling his eyes, Akinori sits up. “It always hurts me to disappoint you, Haruka. Not so much knowing my own family is placing bets on such unsavoury things!” Akinori says, more laughing than upset that even his mother got involved. She would be playful like that. “We said goodbye around the secret statue, you know the one.”

Knowing each and every secret exit out of the castle, Haruka nods. She leaps up at once. 

“Today, we will test our mettle against this daughter-less line of Tulips. Ah, I feel the goddess’ power surging through me already!” Haruka says, out of the room as quick as she’s come in, stomping away to possibly wake her other siblings. Akinori grins, thinking of a time 2 years ago when Haruka organized a sports day; she dragged Natsuko by the hand, and had Fuyuko slung over her shoulders.

Akinori calls for servants to draw a bath and prepare a small, special breakfast to help rid any toxic remains from the wine from his body. He wouldn’t fail Haruka’s expectations of him again.

Moments later he walks the halls of his home, loving the tight fit of his breeches, and the uncommon press of buckles and belts pressing over his thighs and chest. Beige-white trousers are tucked away in soft brown leather shoes, with darker brown accents on the toes and the rims. They keep his calves warm, and make a nice sound over the marble staircase. Akinori flings up the frail collar of his shirt, knowing it would fall back over the leathery chest-bracer he wears. One shoulder bears a fox, its pointy noise towards his heart, and the nine-tails sprawled over his back. Chaos to guide the arrows not yet present there.

Fuyuko, styled in much the same fashion, runs up to him. “Sleeves, sleeves!” She gasps. The sons of the Tulip line aren’t yet here, but Akinori hears their heavy footfalls. Fuyuko busies herself quick as lightning rolling up Akinori’s ¾ sleeves to his elbows. Her hand ruffles once through his hair to give it a more wind-swept look. Then Akinori puts on black leather gloves, some fingers free, some covered. The leather they wear comes from the animals prayed and slain for; once an animal was brought down and towards its next life, would have all of its parts used.

Shikika and Haruka look over at him approvingly; Haruka wears a more battle-ready outfit, with rose-gold armour accentuating her body and keeping it safe from whatever harm she thinks could befall her. Shikika is the only one who wears a looser fit, with wide-rimmed sleeves on her arms and billowing pants. Dark grey on the bottom and white on the top, she put on pink lipgloss, showing her siblings that she wouldn’t do much moving around today.

The army of darkness comes through the white halls, accents of blood red and olive green catching Akinori’s eye. To his surprise, a crown of tulips graces Prince Tetsuya, who leads his brothers forward and into a bowing greeting.

“Our thanks for the small private breakfast brought to our rooms this morning,” he says, as Shikika leads them out. It was Haruka’s day and plan, but she would always let the oldest daughter handle diplomatic talks. The two oldest of each line walk out side by side, having become good friends; both were married and parents, and had a lot in common and to share. Haruka nudges Akinori to follow suit and pair himself with Tatsuki. The siblings stand aside one of the palace’s many side entrances and exits. Haruka winks, and Akinori leads Tatsuki down a paved path.

“Good morning,” Tatsuki says as they leave the large palace. Tatsuki’s eyes keep running up and down Akinori. He normally wouldn’t mind the looks one bit; however, it’s clear that Tatsuki’s eyes search for something. Putting on a confident smile, Akinori starts to walk backwards as he addresses Tatsuki.

“Good morning to you too. Is something the matter on your mind?” he’s laughing, yet a little nervous. Tatsuki stands still, eyes roaming once more top to bottom. It commands Akinori to stand still as well, hands behind his back.

“...In our realm it’s either ‘the matter’ or ‘something on your mind?’ but let’s not get into the differences of wording. To answer your question—It’s just interesting to see you back in actual clothing. And not just the hint of fabric barely hiding anything.”

Akinori blinks for a moment, then his smile stretches wide. He walks forward, eyeing Tatsuki’s eyes and nothing else.

“You say that as if it wasn’t pleasant for you to see,” Akinori says.

“It was.” The matter-of-fact statement comes with a whisper. Akinori’s skin starts to warm up under what he wears today. “Knowing what’s below, no matter the fabric or the layers—” Tatsuki stops himself, covering his mouth with his hand. Akinori doesn’t know what to make of it at all; the turn of Tatsuki’s head and the closed eyes mean ‘disgust’ here. But the hand covering his mouth means something else, and the balled fist at Tatsuki’s side yet another thing. Akinori cannot decipher Tatsuki’s words, nor his verbal language.

Then the eyes open a hint, roaming once more.

“It’s agonizing. Seeing, knowing. Feeling—”

The breeze from behind sweeps Akinori’s hair forward. Behind Tatsuki, he can see the procession of brothers and sisters filing out. Tatsuki turns his head to look at his brothers, then further up as winged creatures join their walk overhead. As the siblings pass slowly, the birds swoop and circle.

Akinori decides then and there he might not be ready for Tatsuki’s feelings. He turns around, hiding his less than confident visage.

“I do apologize for being agonizing,” Akinori says, light as a feather. He hammers his words out as Tatsuki tries to protest what is agonizing about it all. “Rest assured, I wasn’t planning on wearing the same-ish outfits throughout your stay. Now, let’s move on,” Akinori says, rushing his words out. Tatsuki follows suit, cloaked in silence.

Behind Akinori, he hears explanations; how all the birds belong to the brothers, to use as scouts or for delivering notes and letters. Akinori hears the same curiosity he feels ring through his sisters, but none of them inquire too much about how the bonds between man and bird are formed. Instead, he looks up to Tatsuki. Eyes straight ahead, Tatsuki’s feet land surefooted on this path. Has he walked it before?

“So, you got a special bird you like most?” He asks, feeling much like a child asking another what his favourite animal is. Tatsuki smiles sweetly, lost in thought. He stands out from the others today, his uniform a lighter gray, accentuated with more red than the others. Where Tetsuya wears a crown of gilded gold and burnt red tulips, Tatsuki’s buttons, the rims of his clothes, and even the large tulip emblazing his back, are a deep red colour. Nothing of him looks faded or second-rate.

Akinori could have sunk into looking, if Tatsuki hadn’t chosen to answer after some time.

“I like the small ones. There are round, red-chested little birds in our parts. Their feathers are light brown, lighter than this,” Tatsuki says, one finger rounding over the sandy-red coloured fox over Akinori’s shoulder. A touch in a thousands, that shouldn’t bring Akinori’s insides into a rumble—and yet it does. “They make hardly any sound, and they’re quite smart. Fast too; you couldn’t dream of catching one with your hands.”

Akinori brings his gaze up, knowing the pavement under his feet like the back of his hand. He doesn’t see one such round-ish bird flying above. “And not one of those birds in your country wanted to visit?”

The deep short laugh of Tatsuki’s is a sound Akinori wouldn’t mind waking up to in the morning.

“They love our mountains almost more than the Tulips house does. It’s believed their beaks are hardy enough to pick out minerals from the high tops; gives reason why they wouldn’t venture in any other realm that hasn’t got mountains like ours. There’s a family nesting above my window too. It might just not have been the proper timing for them to go flying on an adventure elsewhere. And I can’t imagine them liking to sit still inside or on top of a carriage.”

Reaching the stables, Akinori is careful as he slows his footing, bringing one foot in front of the other. Shikika is already explaining the surroundings, how and when they were built and for what reason. The carriages of the Tulip line are not far off either. Everyone is side-tracked for a moment, and Akinori’s voice keeps low as to not attract any attentive ears’ attention.

“Is that what this is to you…an adventure?”

Standing still, Tatsuki makes Akinori turn on the balls of his foot, looking up to the tall looming figure. Tatsuki’s face has hard edges, and his eyes are steel. The smile that breaks the face has nothing soft to it.

“Love should be the greatest adventure, don’t you agree?”

“Answering a question with a counter-question isn’t an answer,” Akinori grins, bringing about another shift of moods for the question in itself was answer enough. He steps back into Tatsuki’s circle, making sure to not come too close or get the eyes of their siblings on them. “Funny though, I thought you’d think of love and marriage like a battle to be won. A daily war.”

“Of course not,” Tatsuki says right away. “Once two souls agree to go forward in union, they have won together. If I’d see the union as a war…that would bring a negative spin to it.”

Tatsuki continues his stride once more, passing Akinori who quickly checks where all of his sisters are before following, then leading Tatsuki along. His words were a joke to lighten the mood, but Tatsuki’s were dead-serious. Akinori tries again.

“Still, you would think of love as a conquest, yes?” They’re passing by stables of horses, who neigh at Tatsuki as the person new to them, stomping their hooves. Tatsuki looks over longingly at the creatures, but they do not hold his glance for long. His gaze floats back to Akinori, unblinking and pure. 

“A younger self would have, yes. The me that hasn’t met you would. It’s less a battle, definitely not a war, and who can even speak of a conquest when my heart is caught in your hurricane? Pulling a rope would best define it,” Tatsuki says, speaking on while Akinori’s chest thrums with energy. “We’re both pulling a rope on either side, wanting the other to give in, give way. Careful not to land our knees or faces in the mud. All the while we come closer and closer to the middle. Wouldn’t you agree, Akinori?”

They’re standing still once more. Akinori cannot hear nor see his sisters. The world’s edges blur, as Tatsuki in front of him is the clearest being. Captivating and close. Akinori swallows once, then squares his shoulders and straightens his knees.

“Perhaps. My talent is tying things together. You should be careful; a fox would never just leave useful rope behind him. The goddess teaches us to gather all we can use in our hands, maybe unseen to others. If you’re so focused on pulling me closer, it might be too late and I have already tied the rope around your waist.”

He’s impossibly close; Tatsuki, who Akinori thought of as an unmoving object against himself, a force of nature no matter who he is or what’s lacking in his blood. And yet he’s the one rooted to the grounds of his homeland, of his city, while Tatsuki’s shadowy presence reels forward and envelopes him. Akinori feels the exhale of Tatsuki’s nose on his forehead, wanting so much more than air to touch it.

“You say it like it would be the worst thing in the world to happen, when I believe it wouldn’t be so bad to get tied up in the ropes of our own making.” Tatsuki’s arm snakes around Akinori’s waist, the crook of his elbow pushing against Akinori’s back. The hand reaches the other side, pressing gently into Akinori’s hip. “Maybe I didn’t notice the rope, maybe I did. All you need to know, my fair prince, is that I do not mind getting tied up with you.”

Akinori’s hand shoots out against Tatsuki’s chest; a momentary pause in which one might push and the other might pull away. This was the closest Tatsuki has come to asking for Akinori’s hand in the proposed union their parents created. Swallowing heaps of dry air, Akinori takes the final step that would bring their bodies against one another. Around him, the world returns; the horses bristle lowly, having already accepted Tatsuki. The siblings’ laughter rings from behind these stables, and Akinori knows at once no one is waiting for them to join up any time soon.

It would be so easy to open his lips, let his lids close down, and allow Tatsuki to do as he pleases with his mouth.

Tatsuki’s lips close down on Akinori’s forehead, one of Akinori’s small wishes coming true. The embrace perfectly fitting them together makes Akinori’s knees weak. Tatsuki holds onto him, his second arm spreading over the nine-tails on Akinori’s back. The fabric of the Tulip emblem is a different one than the rest of Tatsuki’s dress; Akinori’s knuckles round it—as understanding threatens to unravel his ribcage, and let emotion flow as freely as rivers.

‘Not here’.

“We should join the others. Before my sisters think up more bets and higher stakes,” Akinori laughs, not actually wanting to let go already. Tatsuki laughs into his hair, removing himself if not entirely. Their hands link together. 

“…Wait, what kind of bets?”

*

Akinori’s feet are still wobbly when he stumbles into a round circle. The practice grounds were as much Haruka’s home-ground as the marble flooring of the palace. Here however, she enjoys every advantage of her daily practices. The weapons here are plenty, ranging from practice swords to sharpened blades. At the sound of clashing steel, his mind reels from the soft to hard, and he sprints forward. He shouldn't be surprised to find Haruka handling two swords at once, against three brothers of the Tulip line.

“I can’t believe her!” He hisses, as Tatsuki stands beside him. Their sides touch.

“Wow,” Tatsuki says, blinking as Haruka relieves two of his older brothers of their weapons. They fly through the air and embed themselves in the hard ground. He doesn’t press what ‘bets’ Akinori’s sisters were doing in their free time.

Haruka points one of her swords to the last remaining armed one. “Give up?” She says with a happy snarl, fire in her eyes. Akinori sees she’s wearing more red makeup now, and his heart sinks. Where is Shikika!?

“Not so easily,” the last standing brother calls out. Tatsuki snorts when two others join him; climbing him actually, to stand on his shoulders. Their acrobatic ease leads Akinori to believe this isn’t the first time they’ve done this. The second oldest brother—Taisuke—grounds his feet and moves forward with his own sword close to his face. On top of him, his youngest brothers have joined hands, and their free arms wiggle at Haruka as they tower over her.

“Mountain boys,” Haruka grins, circling around them. “You’re used to the high grounds and altitudes. Have my proper welcome to our valley,” she says, swinging the sword high up to scare Tanosuke and Takeji. They lean back, not upsetting Taisuke below them who tries to parry. As soon as his sword point goes up, Haruka retreats her elbows, swings back, and uses the momentum to bring the sword down to the ground. She then pushes her legs out, tackling her opponents. The three brothers fall into a heap, under dashing applause of Fuyuko, Natsuko, and Prince Tetsuya’s roaring laughter. Haruki and Yamato are there also; Yamato's dignified clapping overpowered by Haruki's excitement.

Haruka bows to her audience, always loving this reward. Akinori sighs deeply.

“She can’t be helped,” he says, coming forward slowly. Tatsuki stays close on his heels, as if the figurative ropes have tied them closer together already, tethers from heart to heart not allowing for a greater distance to be brought back between them. 

“Ah, there you are,” Haruka calls out seeing Akinori. “Let’s have some fun with the bow and arrow!”

Akinori turns his head to Tatsuki, sure that despair is written all over his face.

“I am never ashamed of my sisters, but I will apologize for Haruka well in advance.”

“Haruka knows how and when to pull a punch, little brother,” Shikika says, having rebraided her hair to fit the occasion.

Tatsuki waves it off, then notices his close servants walking onto the grounds. Haruka is showing off battle-axes, her mind rushing from one thing to the other and never losing objectives. Suna and Komori saunter over, first nodding to Tatsuki, then placing their right arms straight over their chest, bowing a little deeper to Akinori.

“Prince Akinori,” they say in unison, their backs straight once more. Akinori can see Haruki chuckle from where he sits on a couple of barrels.

After a small discussion and set up, those who are not adept to the bowstring take first practice shots under Haruka’s guidance—her idea of bonding the families closer together. Akinori and Shikika help selecting arrows; Akinori has a tube strapped on his back and at his right thigh now, arrow feathers peaking out in bunches from each. He likes the feel of them, the security they give. His eyes find Tatsuki standing against a barrel, while Suna sits on one beside him. He joins them as Komori points and talks about stances and holds, and Suna’s face portrays how little he wants to hold a bow. His hands fidget between his knees, perhaps wishing he could have his own weapons back in his hands.

Komori catches Akinori looking, and laughs as he claps Suna on the shoulder.

“My partner can be such a handful,” Komori grins, letting them into the knowledge of how accepting and normal the line of Tulips treats same-sex unions. It eases Akinori’s soul a lot more than he thought it would. They weren’t just handing Tatsuki away to be rid of him or having found use for him. He wasn’t a blight in their line.

“Rintarou isn’t always so moody,” Tatsuki tells Akinori, his lips brushing the ear as they move. Akinori doesn’t let heat gather in his face, as he snorts back.

“Do you have any right to call someone ‘moody’?”

Tatsuki's answer comes in a stare, but when he opens his mouth to speak, Haruka’s loud hand-clap thunders over the ground.

“Pr—Whipping tails, no—Tatsuki! Come over here and show us what you’ve got,” Haruka says, almost slipping the word ‘prince’ into her sentence. Tatsuki nods diligently, and walks over to where Haruka waits to push bow and arrows into his hands. Unlike Akinori, Tatsuki has nowhere to put the extra arrows.

“Haruka, come on,” Akinori begs, swaggering forward with grace. Before he can call out Haruka’s lapse of judgement, Tatsuki puts the extra arrows between his teeth, disforming the corners of his mouth. He takes his place at the beginning of the practice line, already bringing the arrow’s end to the bowstring. Without a word, he looses it quickly and easily. It hits just beside the mark. Haruka stands with her arms crossed, while Akinori watches intently how well Tatsuki does. No arrow flies amiss, and some even hit the target dead-on in the middle. Clapping follows after Tatsuki has loosed each of the given arrows, and he gives a small bow in appreciation.

There’s no need to see Haruka’s face, no need to hear her voice or feel the nudge of her elbow. As soon as Tatsuki is done, Akinori takes his place, going from the opposite end. He’s slower on the draw on the first arrow, attuning his body to the winds around him, the silence in his chest, the strength in his muscles as he brings the arrow close to his lips. His first target is a near hit, and his arrow strikes closer to the middle than Tatsuki’s did on his last shot.

Confidence would have Akinori grin, but he won’t let it overtake his mind nor his hands. He struts, from one target to the next, not once stopping to hold still and aim. His feet sweep over the dry soil, his footing not once fully rooted as he loosens one arrow after the other. The shots aren’t perfect, his arrows don’t strike bulls-eye as much, but his arrows are always closer and better than Tatsuki’s. When he comes to where Tatsuki had hit it perfectly, Akinori doesn’t think; he shoots precisely, embedding his own arrow through Tatsuki’s. A hush even more silent than before blankets over the practice grounds. Akinori finishes off the other targets with ease, each shot better towards the end, where he strikes the bulls-eye once more. 

With the same fluidity, he brings the bow to his back, then gives an elaborate and fancy bow to the clapping.

He hears Suna and Komori discuss if after all, Akinori was trying to fight for his own hand. He had no clue what they meant by it, and they stand perfectly straight, unassuming, and definitely with closed lips when he looks up to them.

“Don’t mind them. It’s eh, a children’s story in our lands,” Tatsuki explains. “That was very impressive.”

Akinori grins brightly hearing such high praise. He twirls his bow around, wondering what he could do next to make Tatsuki say he’s impressive.

Haruka’s ‘day of fun’ doesn’t end there, naturally. Early in the morning with lunch still a faraway promise, she matches Tatsuki’s and Akinori’s strength against each other in a series of tasks. Tatsuki is strong, no doubt about it. Akinori is glad he can hold his own against him though, never once having to succumb defeat. Their matches end in draws, some called by Tatsuki perhaps a tad too early. 

Unlike Haruka, who with her gift from the goddess is good at everything here, Akinori can only show he’s good at a lot of things, just not perfect. Haruka brings out each and every weapon and possible test of balance and strength she can think of, until her mind can rest easy that everything has been brought out and tested. Fuyuko is resting on three barrels lined up, watching the sky. Shikika, who only played during the show of bows and arrows, holds court over the most exhausted part of the line of Tulips. Tatsuki rises to each challenge brought to him until Haruka can’t think of one more, and Akinori manages to not collapse and walks over to a bench.

“Ah, refreshments!” Natsuko claps happily. A small army of servants cleans up Haruka’s games, as another sets down tables and chairs, bringing in casks of wine and water, as well as rolling in fine eating.

Having just sat down, Akinori isn’t sure he can get back up again, even for the much-needed food. Gratefully, he watches Tatsuki balancing plates and drinks in two hands, bringing it over and refusing the help of waiters fluttering around him. Sitting down on the bench, Akinori watches as they can at least bring in a table for Tatsuki to put it all down; he brought a little of everything on the plates. Being left alone once more and not much attention paid to them, Akinori digs in without much grace or decorum. Haruka-organized days always make him hungry. 

Once everyone is eating, drinking, and soon talking again, Tatsuki leans in close to Akinori.

“Where I am from, we have a title for people like you,” he says between bites. Akinori scoffs a laugh.

“Let me guess, does it go along the lines of ‘Jack of all trades, master of none’? Surprisingly, we have the same here. I am sick of hearing it.”

Tatsuki is surprised, nods. “The saying goes, ‘The one who dabbles in all will never be able to perfect just one thing’. There was once a general in our kingdom who, much like your sister Haruka, tried out each and every thing he could in terms of war. He didn’t master anything to perfection however, and because he always was bested in at least one category, he was demoted. Never led a charge, and in the end, commanded nothing and no one.”

“Oh, yours is a lot more sad and with a backstory,” Akinori says, gulping down as much water as he can and ignoring the wine brought to his table all together. He looks over where Haruka jokes and laughs hard, having had her fill. Whatever she needed to have done in order to accept this family for possible future unions seems more than satisfied. Her face is cleared from the red makeup, and she sits between two of Tatsuki’s brothers. Without their parents here, in the open outside the palace, the siblings sit humble-jumbled, enjoying themselves and talking more loudly than before.

Tatsuki’s knee bumps against Akinori once during the lunch, then glues itself there. The rope tightening them more closely together. Akinori lets out a steadying breath, and the air around him eases the pressure in his heart.

*

*

The Tulip house has the saying that a strong body requires an ever stronger mind; after the second daughter’s outing was finished, it was Tetsuya’s request to go into the Chrysanthemum’s private library in the afternoon. The same routine as at home, Tatsuki thinks, browsing the tall rows of books. He should use this time to learn from this house’s history, with their own books. Things his tutors didn’t know or wouldn’t teach him, or wouldn’t be told in their language or blurred through their sight.

Not one book calls out to him; or well, not as loud as the eagerness and want in Tatsuki’s ribcage. He circles the rows of bound books, his eyes always searching and finding Akinori. He’s sitting in a chair now, stripped of motion. Tatsuki could as easily choose a book as well, join him. It would be futile to try and read however, as reading was the last thing on Tatsuki’s mind.

His hand still burns from where he pressed into Akinori’s hip. His lips were wildfire, impossible to be drenched by water or wine, or wiped away by food or napkins. He wants to kiss the forehead again, and the rest of Akinori’s beautiful and smug face. It wasn’t just the sparring in the circle earlier, the draws upon draws; no, what tied Tatsuki more closely to Akinori had been the swift draw of his bow, his agile feet, his ever-present smile. The sweat on his brow during a sword fight had been so inviting to Tatsuki, who thought he was losing his mind.

He could be still as a rock, as present as the air around him. For the first time in his life, agitation moves Tatsuki’s fingers over the back of books. He takes them, flips through them, looking up to see if the rustle of paper gets Akinori’s attention. Row upon row Tatsuki cannot find himself to be still, his head always swivelling to the now seated Akinori.

His feet protest when the better half of an hour is spent like this. Tatsuki finds a table, uninhabited and unseen, and sits down. A weary sigh drives out of his mouth. He closes his eyes, lets his restless hands run over the smooth and wide table. Even this simple piece of furniture disrupts Tatsuki’s thoughts like a waterfall rushing down on him. His hands on the table, his thighs against the edge, Akinori writhing beneath him. Long legs pulling him closer and in, wrapped around Tatsuki’s naked and sweat-sheened back. Or turning Akinori around, to see his muscles move beneath that tattoo...

Tatsuki opens his eyes and glares into nothing, finding himself alone within the world of knowledge surrounding him, none the wiser.

*

Tonight’s dinner is thankfully not a showing of anything. It is not a private gathering of families, but also not an humongous feast where the entire court is invited. Select guests dine with them, and the Konoha family has split themselves up to grace one of each court at the round tables. Under which most of Queen Konoha’s sisters. They were quiet ones, with eyes always watching. Queen Konoha has been attentive to pair up members ranking the same way—naturally, her own son was exempt from that, same as the boy who wishes to be with him. Tatsuki and Akinori sit at opposite circles of their table, surrounded by their guests.

Eating because he has to eat and not because he wants to, Tatsuki does his best to listen attentively and reply with more than a nod or a curt word. He isn’t like Akinori, who is fully immersed in the stories, and who engages fully with those closest to him. He even calls out to the guest sitting next to Tatsuki, enabling everyone to bathe in his glory. All Tatsuki wants is to be alone with him, to have him more to himself.

Picking his fork into the veal served on his plate, he wonders if he could arrange private dinners with Akinori. It would take a word from him to his father, or perhaps a direct request to Queen Konoha. Drawing a blank at what ‘romantic’ outings could entail, Tatsuki wonders if simply being alone with Akinori, like they’ve been at the stables, would help Tatsuki’s cause.

The stone had come rolling down the mountain, not only gathering speed but also the allegiance of other pebbles and stones. It now rumbles down Tatsuki’s mind, his spine, sending sparks up where in his mind, tumbling rock meets an unmoving mountain. The knowledge heavier and more embedded in his heart as each and every moment with Akinori has driven one thought home deeper.

Tatsuki looks up to Akinori, laughing. He ignores his glass, his veal, his fingers not even feeling the fork. He doesn’t hear the people next to him nor behind him. He looks at Akinori and simply knows with clarity and intent that he truly wants to be with this prince and no other.

_‘I do not mind getting tied up with you.’_

He really wouldn’t.

At the end of the dinner, when Queen Konoha and her children bid goodbye to the guests and the servants slowly start to clean up all around them, Tatsuki remains seated at the table. From the edges, the rooms become darker, as more and more of the candles are blown out. Exhaustion of the day and the pleasant feeling of being filled and satisfied hangs around heavily. Even Tatsuki had managed to finish his dinner in the end. 

Likewise, he listened and behaved. He could have said no to the desert, but Akinori had made sure that no one at his table would deny one of his favourite treats. For Tatsuki, it was a little on the sweet side; watching Akinori savour every little spoon in his mouth however, Tatsuki didn’t mind the sweetness.

Their families strewn around several tables, Tatsuki watches as Queen Konoha converses with his father. Nods and happy smiles are exchanged, and soon, King Tetsuya wishes his sons goodnight, giving small bows to the daughters and towards Akinori before he leaves the now darkened ballroom.

“So, tomorrow breakfasts can be prepared to whomever wishes. I have duties to attend to, and I arranged a brunch afterwards. This brought me the idea of how you all could take some horses and ride into the valley. I wish for…for my esteemed guests to see more of this queendom and its true beauty, not just from a carriage passing it by, but truly experiencing it!”

Despite today having been quite sore on his body—and Tatsuki hates to admit that the afternoon library didn’t lend to peace of mind at all—the sons and daughters of both houses agree with the queen. Soon they all rise, wishing each other a good night. Tatsuki stands up last, bowing to the king and queen as well as the first princess. He’s slow to follow his brothers’ trail however. Most of the sisters already make themselves scarce, and only Haruka watches him. 

‘Not tonight’, Tatsuki thinks, and he bows his head to Akinori.

“Sleep well,” he manages, and Akinori beams back.

“A good rest to you.”

Tatsuki nods, following after his brothers. He wasn’t sure if his mind or his body would give him much rest tonight.

*

As much becomes true when he wakes hours later. First his mind replays every close moment with Akinori. He reflects that he always acts like himself, not as some far-away prince that may be more alluring or kind in his manner. Forthcoming wasn’t Tatsuki’s strong suit. Above all, the back and forth he enjoys with Akinori aligns with how he thinks a marriage might be. Nothing dull. Adding to that, Akinori proves himself more than worthy in a fight. Not the best at anything, he and Tatsuki had tested their strength against one another in a variation of combats and skill tests.

One arm nestling between his head and the pillow, Tatsuki lets another hand travel over his bare chest. He huffs in annoyance, letting that hand fall away. Closing his eyes, he sees once again Akinori—  
_  
Sweat on his brow, taking deep breaths, trying to taunt over the obvious pain in his sides. Akinori parries one blow and takes the other hit. His feet are quick, creating distance in a moment. Tatsuki exhales. Good, he likes to chase. Without letting Akinori catch his breath, Tatsuki charges forward once more. Their swords clash in a flurry of clangs, not one cut being made. Tatsuki uses the sides of his blades to try and hit Akinori’s elbow. Making him drop his weapon and then tackle him to the ground has been Tatsuki’s strategy._

_Akinori on the other hand swipes at his legs directly, sharp side always out. Tatsuki wears armour on his legs, yet the hits cause imbalance. Akinori grins whenever he gets a hit in, then becomes irritated when Tatsuki doesn’t show any sign of giving up or falling._

_“I am not a tree so easily cut down,” Tatsuki says in a low and deep voice. Akinori puts his nose up. Hair clings to his brow, his cheekbone. He solidifies his stance._

_“You are what I make you. And in a moment, you will be a loser on the ground, hyah!” Akinori yells, charging forward once more. Tatsuki dodges, turns, but his blade meets metal once more, unable to hit Akinori’s back who turns on his heel. He’s graceful and swift. The ground hardly moves beneath him. His sisters clap, but it’s kept short as the heat of the moment flares up more and more. Silence only interrupted by gasps and the sword fight. A dance, really, one Tatsuki remembers having done already._  
  
—Tatsuki hums in pleasure, smiling now when his hand goes under the covers. Yes, Akinori was alluring all by himself. Charming too, and quick of wit. A bit arrogant, but it came from confidence and self-awareness. Balling the hand under his head to a fist, Tatsuki’s mind disforms the dance, the fight, the graceful image of Akinori’s bow stance. It reassigns itself to a dream-Akinori, wantonly writhing beneath him. Tatsuki imagines hands clawing at his chest, over his back. Pulling him down by the hips, deeper into the welcoming heat. In reality, Tatsuki’s hand moves faster and faster over his hardness.

When he comes, he bites his bottom lip to mute the sound. The groan comes through, his hand wet with his seed becoming still, falling once more to his side. Tatsuki opens his eyes, now hazy with sleep. How much he wishes that Akinori was here with him. How much he wanted his body heat here.

Turning away from his shame, Tatsuki curls in on his side falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT CHAPTER WE WILL LEAVE THE PALACE AND EXPLOREEEE~~~


	4. From the valley, to the peaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The princes and their siblings go horse-riding to and into a forest. Tatsuki has horse problems, but no bird problems. 
> 
> Secrets important to their respective realm are revealed, as Akinori sneaks his suitor off to a private picnic. 
> 
> Back in the palace, more secrets come to light. And large casks of wine are ordered, to reveal them during the nighttime too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I also really love the parts in this. Nana was a huge fan of the horses, so I had to give one specific horse a name and a rank www
> 
> Also can I just say how much I love??? gifts and magic and all the stuffs???? It's one of my favourite things to write and while I didn't tag 'magic' as its not //really// magic...I still love how magical everything is TT

“Beautiful, isn’t it!?” Akinori laughs as his horse gallops past Tatsuki. Over the large fields, bumpy and grassy as they were, the children of both families drove their horses hard. Coming close to the stretching chrysanthemum fields, it’s not the multitude nor the colours or scent that takes Tatsuki’s breath. Gazing at the back of Akinori’s head, down the slender neck, the broader shoulders, and an almost exact copy of the outfit Akinori wore yesterday, Tatsuki allows a shallow unseen smile to ghost over his lips. Not that Akinori could see it...

The horse beneath him senses distraction, and tries to buck him. _Again_. The horse doesn’t like him, and the feeling has become mutual. He chose this horse from the actual stable section at the Stables. It was big and strong-looking, with challenging eyes. When Haruka mentioned that it was a war horse in battle, one that could lead a battalion of other battle horses and make them less frightened, Tatsuki had to ride it; even it was just for a non-aggressive ride in the valley. Even when this same valley hadn’t known war for centuries.

Little could he have known, saddled and about to ascend, what this horse truly was. A beast that wouldn’t just allow any sort of stranger to ride it, even if Tatsuki himself was a warrior. Akinori had snorted, looking over his shoulder. _“Woah, do you know that Gigant is practically our second-in-command horse!? The big baby likes all of us, naturally, but doesn’t take easy on strangers. Ah, we’re heading out!”_

Tatsuki looks ahead where his older brothers are having an easier time with their horses. Akinori had been up ahead too, but circles back to trot beside Tatsuki and repeats his question. Not letting this setback damp his spirits, and liking the way that Akinori watches out for him—has come back for him—Tatsuki manages to rein in his horse, and murmur to Akinori.

“Yes, very.”

Akinori’s head whips back at him, his smile brighter than the high sun. The skies are full of fluffy clouds, floating above them, going by at different speeds. They lend shadows to the land below, and an eastern wind blows through the fields. Tatsuki’s and Akinori’s horses neigh in unison, trotting beside the fields. Even after the harvest, there were still so many flowers.

“This might be the biggest difference within our houses,” Tatsuki says, doing his best to spare the flowers—as they are pretty—a glance as well. “Your flowers come in legion. Ours are...a little more rare, never at once growing in one spot, always scattered.”

Akinori’s smile isn’t a smirk of superiority or self-love. He hears the hesitation in Tatsuki’s voice. “Ours are fields, easy to harvest. Yours are more worthwhile, and have a unique gift to offer the world. Ours…I love the chrysanthemum flowers dearly. And yet, compared to your tulip, they’re shallow and only offer beauty, when it comes down to it. We have put so much meaning and love and duty in them by ourselves. The tulip grows all by its lonesome, in harsh winds and cold stone. It’s much more resilient,” Akinori says, his ungloved hand going through the large flowers to his left.

Another arrow nudges into Tatsuki’s heart, after he’s already been pierced by too many hits.

“…You are in no way of superficial beauty alone, Akinori,” Tatsuki says, gathering more from Akinori’s words than what the prince might have let on. Akinori’s eyes take forever to trail back to him, away from the fields. Before he can open his mouth, Tatsuki adds: “If you would liken the two of us to the emblems of our royal families...I wasn’t born to be truly alone, and you are not just one pretty flower within a bouquet. We’re each our own person, and while I take pride in growing tall and strong like the tulip, and you are sight to behold with sacrifices to give to the goddess…Aren’t we more than just that?”

The smile reaching Akinori’s face this time is soft and sweet. With the backdrop of the flowers fields behind him, he looks more royal—someone to be revered. Then he snickers.

“You actually can say the most wholesome and pretty words to melt one’s heart, mhn?”

Tatsuki looks away at that, never having been one to rhyme a poem or serenade beautifully. Akinori draws it out of him, and so much more than just words. The feelings unfolding in Tatsuki’s stomach weren’t just baseless want or a whimsical attraction to beauty. What he feels begs him to leave his mountain home behind, to say farewell to his family whom he has known all his life, and look upon these fields, the palace at his back, and the boy at his side for the rest of his life with joy and love.

“When enticed, I may,” he says, spurning on his horse to ride a little faster through the valley. Laughing, Akinori follows quickly, his happiness the sweetest tune in Tatsuki’s ear.

*

*

Up ahead come the woods. Like an embrace, wayward trees reach forward in a half moon circle. Natsuko tells the story of a battle thousands and thousands of years ago. Their goddess levelled this place, and no tree would grow upon the once-burned grass. Akinori looks at the yellowed space which would never bear greenery. He stays close to Tatsuki, interjecting wisdom and teachings of their line whenever his sisters fail to paint a complete picture.

Leaving behind the chrysanthemum fields, Tatsuki’s responses are shorter now, and not always audible. Akinori doesn’t mind the silence that settles over his could-be future spouse. A chorus of chirps and other sounds reach them from the trees. Their party comes to a standstill, horses hoofing the ground. Fuyuko is the first to speak.

“Are they…speaking to us?”

Akinori’s horse walks forward a little. His gaze goes from his confused sisters to the faces of the brothers; all handsome and serene, they have their eyes lifted to the treetops. One of the younger brothers tilts his head to the side, smiling. Tatsuki too looks with understanding and sweetness towards the woods. Akinori’s brow crooks, thinking of the birds loyal to their house, now at the palace rookery sleeping. His mind also drifts to the eagle Barkbeak, always close to the king. There was something more to it than any of the Chrysanthemum line fathomed. 

Still watching Tatsuki, Akinori sees a deeper understanding lights up in that hawk-face. Tatsuki’s eyes widen with something so bright that Akinori thinks it must be an idea. It’s gone within a moment, and perhaps Akinori imagined it. 

Shikika soon leads them down the path into the forest, the birds above them chirping in unison—as if in greeting to long-time friends returning to a visit.

The path down the forest isn’t one as well-travelled by horse as it is by walking. Akinori’s horse Swiftcey trots along carefully. Every now and then, Akinori turns his head; Tatsuki isn’t exactly in his element. It’s funny how he hadn’t mentioned it before. He said yes to the ride, got up the horse, managed to rein it in while it was still in the group. But as soon as they were out of the city and driving their horses to go faster, Tatsuki remained lagging behind.

“Shh, hold,” Akinori whispers to his mare, who listens instantly. Standing still he looks behind him again, finding both the rider and the horse miserable going downwards. “You should encourage it, Tatsuki,” Akinori offers, showing how and where to caress the horse’s neck by caressing Swiftcey’s. The mare’s nose huffs happily. Tatsuki looms forward over his own horse, patting rather awkwardly. “That’s it, now use the flat of your palm. That’s it.”

His sisters have taken the brothers deeper into the woods. Akinori cannot bring himself to care that they’re lagging behind at all. They have the entire day. The weather is good, neither too hot nor too cold. They’ve packed picnic supplies and sandwiches to eat while riding. Maybe Akinori could find a secluded space in the woods and just stay here with Tatsuki for a while.

*

*

“…The beast doesn’t like me,” Tatsuki says, caught up at last. There was no way he would admit that riding an animal was new to him. After all, everyone had been excited to ride out together. No one made a fuss. Even his older brothers who were new to horse-riding like him had saddled their horses without complaints. Akinori spurs his own mare on to continue, laughing.

“First of all, the beast has a name; Gigant. Yes that’s you! Little old you!” Akinori says to the horse, who neighs and whips its hair into Tatsuki’s face. Akinori laughs as Tatsuki sputters out and wipes his face of leftover strands stuck there. Akinori continues, “It senses your fear and apprehension. Horses will try to get you off at the beginning. They’re free spirits like that, after all. And you couldn’t have chosen a more stubborn or ruthless horse!” 

Soon the downward slope becomes a straighter path. Tatsuki watches the group ahead taking one bend of a Y-split up ahead. Akinori places himself square in the path, pauses. He slows down, never once glancing back. Tatsuki sighs, his body flinching each time the horse’s back rises up, unwilling to carry him any further. The sounds of the larger group become muted the deeper they go, as the forest around them becomes denser.

It doesn’t go by unnoticed that Akinori hesitates none in choosing a different route. Tatsuki looks down the path his siblings took, quickly following after Akinori. It wouldn’t do him any good getting lost here by himself. The horse might just rebel completely and leave him behind. That would make the worst impression… Staying close behind Akinori, Tatsuki raises his voice a little.

“What I am sensing is that we’re nowhere close to our siblings and that you are leading me astray,” Tatsuki, unable to force the grin from his face. 

Barely turning his chin to his shoulder, Akinori replies. “Those astray may find treasures. It’s a saying in our nation, blessed by the whimsical moods of our goddess. Taking paths less travelled may lead to something more, Tatsuki.”

“Do you have anything in mind as to what ‘something more’ could entail?” The eagerness becomes audible now. He hates it. The dreams of the day and the night haunt him like silly spectres, wishing he’d fulfil his wants. Part of him is scared—would he be good enough? Would he hurt Akinori if they became intimate? What if it was against the laws of this land… His tutors taught him so much but nothing at all; what were even the rituals in the case of uniting not just their names and lands, but also their mind and bodies—

Akinori spurs his mare into a slight trot, calling back to him. “Perhaps! If you manage to stay close with me that is. Don’t get lost!”

He can’t do much else but follow along. Wherever Akinori might take him. Tatsuki’s heart rate goes up, wondering if perhaps this would be Akinori’s revenge for turning up naked in his room. They are cut off from the world, from their blood. All by themselves with no one watching, no one being able to come find them or interrupt them. The most perfect opportunity. Tatsuki cannot linger his thoughts long on it. Keeping up with Akinori means keeping his mind on the horse below him, who keeps attempting to throw him off.

*

*

Akinori rides ahead to spot from a distance a place they could sit down and leave the horses to rest. There’s no agonized sounds of worry. Not wanting to leave Tatsuki struggling for too long—or getting hurt—Akinori quickly finds the perfect spot. “Hold,” he tells his mare, who comes to a stop. Getting off Swiftcey, Akinori leads her reins forward, then ties her to a tree. Tatsuki follows slowly on the path, sweat pearling on his brow. He sighs visible relief when he arrives, taking in the scene. 

Without a word he gets off the horse, who almost makes a run for it. Strong hands take the reins, and Tatsuki tells his horse a stern ‘No’.

“See, you managed,” Akinori says brightly, hearing Tatsuki’s faint murmur of ‘Barely’. They unpack the picnic things the horses carry, for today the siblings didn’t want any servants around or tending to their needs. Akinori spreads out the plaid, and Tatsuki carries the heavier bags; they’re flat-looking, thinner than the width of Tatsuki’s biceps. In it are thin wire baskets. As soon as Tatsuki puts them down upright, removing the coverings, Akinori leans forward to press his hands on the top, then down. The flat basket unfolds, its mechanisms intricate. Within, the sandwiches, flasks and other things are instantly presented.

“You must let me send one of these home to my sisters-in-law,” Tatsuki says as Akinori takes out a muffin. He bites down, trying to speak around the fluff.

“Nawthurahlly,” Akinori says, then swallows. “Their design is fairly simple. It’s not a state secret.”

Tatsuki smirks. “I am sure both our families have a fair share of those.” Before Akinori can answer, Tatsuki looks up at the trees. “The light seems fading.”

“Yeah, the woods get dark real quick. Especially with cloud cover like before.” Sitting down at peace, they start to eat slowly. Akinori could mention at any time how certain state secrets would be transferred to those marrying into his family, but…not many would believe the stories although they were true. Plus, the manner and method of one particular secret being revealed was in and of itself a huge secret. Unless Akinori decides right here and now that Tatsuki should be his forever, the secret should remain one as such. 

The thought causes ripples through his body. When _would_ he decide? The courting seems to be going really well now. Their families get along splendidly. All these dinners and outings assure Akinori that a future with Tatsuki wouldn’t be bad at all. The embrace in the stables, their moment beside the statue…all of it was leading to a promise to be kept, an union under the eyes of his goddess. How he could approach the subject best alluded him however. It didn’t feel right to just say ‘alright let’s do it’. There needed to be a proper procedure for that too. In his case, his mother had simplified it to his decision. 

For the daughters of the Chrysanthemum line, all sorts of protocols were in order. Gifts were state affairs, courting and dances supervised. His mother has taken a much freer approach, not wanting to suffocate her daughters as they’ve always been free spirited. But the most freedom to choose and do as wanted was given to Akinori. Letting him get to know Tatsuki on his own terms, at his own pace. To not be constantly put together unless they wanted to be. The king of Tulips might press his son for progress, but Akinori hasn’t felt any such pressure in the air when the families were together. Sure, there was a lot riding on his shoulders, their shoulders in fact.

“Akinori, If you keep on frowning like that, you will age prematurely,” Tatsuki says, bringing Akinori out of his thoughts. 

Akinori smiles, his eyes glancing at Tatsuki. He didn’t find one reason within him to be against marrying this particular man. In the back of his mind, there was a checklist however, things he needed to know before he could say definite and eternal that he would be Tatsuki’s. Everyone in his family would want him to be as sure as possible.

“It’s nothing,” he lies, blowing out air to release the pressure within his body. “I—” Akinori gets out, as Tatsuki’s hand runs over the back of his head, down his neck. Akinori becomes still, willing himself to feel each and every finger pad slowly coming to the ends of his hair and onto his skin. For the third time, Akinori thinks this is it—this is when he will know what Tatsuki’s lips feel like, taste like. And yet that knowledge fails to be acquired, when Tatsuki’s hands rub up and down his neck, assuringly.

“If it’s something, I would love to know.”

The words should be sweet enough, and yet...Akinori slaps Tatsuki’s hand away. “I’m not a horse you have to rein in, you know,” he says, forcing a grin to his face. Tatsuki lets out a breath.

“No, you are not. You are much wilder and less predictable than those four-legged beasts.” Tatsuki’s hand falls away—same as the moment they were sharing, the possibilities that keep making an attempt to edge in on them vaporizing like a fading dream. Akinori sits more upright, swallowing his worries, wishes and wants away. He inhales a sandwich and drinks from the flask holding the sweet wine of his homeland. All around them, birds chirp noisily, and the undergrowth rustles with moving creatures.

An owl hoots. Akinori notices a shift in Tatsuki, whose back straightens. His eyes gaze attentively to where the sound has come from. Focus slides over his features, a wall that wouldn’t budge. There’s a stillness to Tatsuki that makes him all the more wantable, but it’s not meant for Akinori to interfere with it right now. The hooting draws nearer; a deep whistling sound. Branches snap and leaves fall. The owl flies unseen to Akinori’s eye, so he looks at Tatsuki who seems to be following its exact path. Could that be possible? Owls were night creatures in the first place. To see one during the day would be a miracle.

Tatsuki stands up and away from the plaid. The horses’ ears shift too, listening. Akinori’s eyes glance from the seemingly empty trees to Tatsuki, who raises his arm slowly. There’s a large napkin slung over his arm.

And in the next instant, an owl perches upon it. It is small, light brown with darker feathers. Its ears are tiny tufts, barely sticking up. Again it whistles deeply, and Akinori slowly stands up so as not to frighten it. The owl cannot be taller than 20 centimeters.

“A Watcher, is what we call this type,” Tatsuki says, looking at Akinori who doesn’t dare step a foot closer, although he wants to badly. “Come, it won’t leave.” Blinking in disbelief, Akinori makes his legs go forward. The owl’s head turns to him, its eyes blinking even slower than Akinori’s. When he fully stands in front of it, the owl’s talons move visibly under its feathers, over the napkin and closer to Akinori. Still fearing to upset this gorgeous creature, Akinori lifts his hand, curling it inward without making a fist. 

“She reminds me of you,” Tatsuki says when Akinori manages to pet the soft owl. “Your hair colour and her feathers are almost identical.” 

It was true, Akinori guesses, when his brain catches up to something else. “She? How do you know?” His hands stills, and the owl pecks him gently; her pecks do not hurt, and Akinori gets the sense of what she wants. He pets the side of her head, and the big eyes close. Tatsuki doesn’t reply straight away, and when he does, it’s yet another question directed back.

“Do you want her?”

Surprises upon surprises. This one makes Akinori’s jaw drop, though he still manages to not stammer or upset the owl. Of all the things on his mind and in his heart, it’s this question that does him in—how could Tatsuki possibly offer him an animal, like giving away a pet, that just flew down a branch? A predator no less, the untamed owl perches at ease on Tatsuki’s arm. Was this a trick?

“What…you just…this is a wild animal..!” Akinori stammers, his hand leaving the soft feathery creature. And yet the owl isn’t disturbed. She blinks at him.

“She can still be one again, if you do not like her,” Tatsuki answers. He gazes over to the owl, bringing his arm closer to his chest. She doesn’t move. “For all the days and nights I spent thinking how to make up with you, no idea I got was worthy enough. As a gift, I mean—any bird can be trained, and this owl likes us—she likes you, Akinori.”

He has to take a step back. Tatsuki had still been caught up about the boar…he actually took it to heart and tried to make amends. It would be impossible not to be touched by this revelation. And yet something must not be right in Tatsuki’s head. _You could not just tame a predator! I don’t know how his father got the eagle, but surely it wasn’t easy,_ Akinori thinks, then huffs a laugh glancing back at the owl. 

“Wait, what do you mean, ‘any bird can be tamed’. This is an owl! It’s not just some…some pet. She might not like the palace, or fly away, or, or—” Akinori lifts his hand, but his brain doesn’t function. This was wild. Owls were precious animals, predators of the night. They were on par with the foxes, hallowed creatures who listen to no one and could not be tamed by any human unless—

“Please have more faith in what I am offering,” Tatsuki sighs with a smile, then sits down again. He brings the owl from his arm to his knee, having put another napkin there. Akinori sits across, continuing to pet the sweet little bird. She _is_ cute, and Akinori would very much like to keep her…As a gift, it was phenomenal and thoughtful. “I see that you will not receive her unless I explain…”

“Explain what?” Akinori laughs, a little more at ease sitting. 

“200 years ago, quite recent regarding the history of the world…my great-great-grandfather Tamahiro—he was called ‘bird brain’ in jest by surrounding nations’ leaders. It was all in good nature, until one leader decided to not call him by his royal title, King of Tulips, but instead named him ‘Leader of the chickens’. My ancestor had a love for all sorts of winged creatures, you see. He held chickens, but also gave home to crows and ravens, to eagles and owls. If they were hurt, he cared for them until they could fly and hunt for themselves. The elderly animals would come back to him always. When that unfortunate and stupid leader continued his harassment at a state dinner held at our court, King Washio Tamahiro ordered a murder of crows to peck this man to death on his way home.”

Akinori’s hand stills. His mouth opens one more, in pure shock. 

“…How is that possible?”

Tatsuki bows his head. State secrets, Akinori guesses. One has to give in order to receive. Akinori sighs, knowing that the story he is about to tell isn’t one that’s so secretive at all. Just…history, religion. Knowledge.

“The reason why I think it’s impossible to have an owl-pet…is the tale of the wise owl and our fox goddess. The owl was male, which is important for this story. Before this creature, it is told that our goddess hated all men. She found this forest and made it part of her realm, but didn’t put much thought into it because the badgers and squirrels living there taunted her. She was a goddess and could level the entire forest with a single swipe of her tail. Because she wasn’t sure if only male species lived in the forest, she didn’t,” Akinori says. It was a story his mother told them, explaining to him as a child why there were so few boys in the family. Not just how there never was more than one son in a line; but also how not every generation a son would be born. Sometimes 8 generations went by without a boy. It’s been like that since the first queen ruled, and those were facts.

“One day she decided to travel inwards. The Vixen came to the border you saw earlier, and met an owl almost her size. You may not know this, but our goddess is huge. This owl you see, he was a god too, and cautioned the fox goddess to please hold her temper. As a protector of the forests close to this valley, he would take it upon his feathery mantle to keep the beings here safe, and to caution them in turn to respect the goddess. In that way, the fox and the owl were able to form a bond.”

The small owl in front whistles, its head bobbing up and down from its neck. Akinori wonders if this owl understood him, if she too knew the story. Tatsuki’s gaze is hard and unblinking, and Akinori drinks from the flask before continuing. “The owl would give advice in battle strategy and enable a cool head within our temperate goddess. He taught her the language of the leaves, and soon the goddess came to understand that the smaller animals here hadn’t taunted her, but just spoke a different language. In return, the Vixen helped the forest grow, and vowed protection within her lands, as long as the owl would need it.”

When Akinori watches Tatsuki for his reaction, he finds widened eyes.

“That god…The Dark One. He is well known to us,” Tatsuki says, and Akinori wonders how many shocks a human being can stand in one day. “The owl god in your story, are his feathers black and dark grey? Was he one that would cast large shadows wherever he flew?”

Akinori nods. He left out how both gods would also fight together in wars. This was thousands of years ago, before the queendom of Chrysanthemum even existed. The stories lived through the goddess, through her divine line.

“I cannot believe how closely connected our histories are…Well then,” Tatsuki says, looking up brightly. “The Dark One is an owl god that once flew too far from its home in the forests. It crossed the rolling fields over to the flat plains towards the mountain. A calamity struck it from the skies, which are said to have been stormy wherever he flew. Given that the mountain peaks drove him higher, he couldn’t outfly the lightning. The first King of Tulips healed that god, for only the tulips had the power to help a deity such as this creature. Years later the owl asked to be burned on our mountains, to let its ashes feed the skies and aid a friend far away. What it also did was colour our mountains shades darker than what they were. Our first King did so. Upon its death, the Dark One bestowed one unique gift to our house. It is a secret we keep to ourselves and have never revealed to outside nations.”

Akinori takes the chance from Tatsuki to tell it, his eyes wide and voice a whisper. “You can speak to birds.”

Tatsuki nods. “Winged beasts who take the skies, predators mostly. It doesn’t matter where they hail from, as the Dark One had come…well, I figure from this very land. We can form a telepathic connection to these creatures.”

“That explains a lot,” Akinori says. He pets the owl again. “But it is a bond you have, not I. How would I understand this pretty little thing?” Akinori wants to, he does. All his sisters have gifts, and now it turns out that the sons of the Tulip have one too. He hasn’t experienced this feeling in a long while, but he is left out once more. After years of being so used to it, tears prick his eyes. At once, the little owl hops over to his knee, her talons kind to his clothed skin. She hoots gently.

Tatsuki’s hand caresses his face. Akinori doesn’t want to say what bitter and ugly emotions overcome him. Somehow, it’s not necessary to be as candid as that. Not that it stops his tears from flowing. Tatsuki wipes them gently. The show of vulnerability and emotions does not scare him away.

“I can teach you. I will teach her, too, to make you understand. To take your orders. It will be my present to you, along with this owl,” Tatsuki says softly. Akinori lets Tatsuki dry his face, then cannot help but wonder out loud.

“…But you never pray to the owl god?” Clearly it was interwoven into their early history, even being named ‘The Dark One’. The owl god coloured the mountains darker, and has been able to aid the fox goddess from that great distance.

“Never. It said that only the King and his son would hold power in the mountains. For the owl was a god of the forest, but beaten in the skies he loved. Some stories say that the owl was so wise that it asked not to be worshipped. That is of course a line of thought heavily influenced by those who do not care for religion. The Dark One asked only this: that we care for and protect the winged animals, even the predators, when they come to our mountains. That would be our type of ‘worship’, the first king wrote down.”

“That’s incredible…And so unknown to anyone outside your realm?”

“Anyone outside our born and bred family,” Tatsuki says. He pets the owl on Akinori’s knee now, not looking at him. Akinori gulps down; Tatsuki tells him this, while Akinori has not yet promised himself to him. “It would be hard to teach you anything to take care of this little one without at least telling you what…I am capable of.”

 _Speaking to all winged creatures of the skies…_ “So in fact, you cannot speak to chickens huh?” Akinori says to lighten up the mood.

Laughing, Tatsuki shakes his head. “I cannot, no. Pheasants neither,” he explains. “Sometimes in our male house, someone takes to one winged creature more, and not at all to another. Tetsuya once travelled to the furthest south and met a long-legged animal named an ‘ostrich’? He’s never seen one, but could communicate with it. My youngest brother was able to talk to a peacock. But it’s been some time since one of us could speak to chickens and pheasants.”

It makes Akinori think back to the wild game Tatsuki brought him as his first gift.

Biting his lip and weighing his options, Akinori whispers. “All my sisters have gifts too. I…I cannot tell you as they are their secrets to share and not mine.”

“Then don’t tell me their secrets, Akinori. Only tell me yours. Those are the ones I am interested in, after all,” Tatsuki says, not inching closer, keeping distant. Akinori huffs, nods. “As to this little one, you should think up a name for her soon. She doesn’t like being nameless.” As soon as Tatsuki says it, the owl looks up to Akinori, expectant.

“Very well then. If you are to be mine…Noble daughter of Nine, Kyuu-no-hime. I will call her Kyuuko for short,” The little owl named Kyuuko spreads her wings, whistling deeply and long. “Do you like that name, my little princess? The palace will be absolutely thrilled to meet such a fine young girl such as yourself.”

They finish their picnic, and Akinori feeds Kyuuko little scraps. Tatsuki explains that he will communicate with Kyuuko to stay close to them on the way back. 

“It would be best to teach both of you in your own quarters, so she will get accustomed to the place and where she belongs,” Tatsuki says, walking back to the horse. Apprehension takes over him once more. “I wish I could speak to this one as well as to birds…”

Smirking, all packed and ready to go, Akinori gets onto his own saddle. “Guess we can already rely on each other to teach one another about the do’s and don'ts of animal handling.”

On the way back, they make it to the bend where Akinori had split them away from his and Tatsuki’s siblings. They meet up there quite by accident. Akinori couldn’t read the Tulip brothers for one inch. His sisters however, are like his favourite childhood books, with their smirks and eyebrows moving unprincess-like. He shakes his head at them, clucks. Kyuuko, perching on his shoulder, hoots at them.

“Ooooh, what a cute owl! And how tame she is,” Fuyuko squalls, her horse coming close to Akinori to get a better look.

“My new little princess! Please meet Kyuuko. Tatsuki—he tamed her and gave her to me,” Akinori says, looking back towards part of the group. There’s something passing between the brothers alright, if Tatsuki would meet his older siblings eyes at least. He decidedly looks away. Smiling, Akinori doesn’t let much more on than that, and is happy his sisters don’t press for more answers. They too understand the importance of state secrets, especially those shared between two people of different families, lined up for an union of the ages.

*

*

“Don’t worry, she’ll come back,” Tatsuki says, watching Akinori’s concerned face. Akinori lifts his arms to let Kyuuko fly. He does so reluctantly, although Tatsuki promises to keep her in line. She likes to stay with them, with Akinori. Kyuuko takes flight, circles the fields, then dives back to their group. Tatsuki mentions that Akinori should have his outfitters make him leathery fittings, so that he can easily have Fyuuko on his shoulder or arm. For now, they have strapped a make-shift harness with napkins and rope for Kyuuko to sit.

“See? You should have a little more faith in me, Akinori,” Tatsuki says, his voice not sullen enough to tease Akinori into a reply laced with apologies. Akinori looks back at him, brow raised.

“One does not preach faith to a believer, Tulip son,” Akinori says, and his raised eyebrow is joined by a raised mouth corner. The path widens for them to ride side by side. Tatsuki has trouble getting his horse Gigant forward. Instead, it trots backwards. Inhaling deeply, Tatsuki keeps calm, his hands fists around the reins without pulling them. His ankles dip into the sides of the horse, appealing it to go into the right direction. Once more they’re trailing behind the rest, as Tatsuki struggles with Gigant. Petting and feeding it did little to improve its mood. 

Akinori must have said something that Tatsuki couldn’t hear, as he hears the tail end of a sentence directed at him.

“—isn’t going anywhere…” Akinori takes the reins from Tatsuki, leans forward toward the unruly horse. Because of the precarious angle, Tatsuki’s arms want to reach out and steady Akinori. To his surprise, he finds that Akinori can keep his own balance quite well. Kyuuko isn’t bothered in the least, her face serene. Tatsuki looks down Akinori’s body, the slight bend in his sides. Strong core and thigh muscles… Tatsuki quickly looks away, reprimanding his mind. 

“There, that should help,” Akinori says, petting the horse’s neck. Tatsuki missed everything. He blinks now, as if he could revert time and see what Akinori has done or said. Trotting forward once more, Tatsuki finds that the horse follows more easily. It catches up to Akinori, who brings his mare forward further and further each time. 

“What did you do?” Tatsuki calls out. Akinori grins back at him.

“Court secrets, can’t share them! You may speak to the birds, Tatsuki, but I have sway with all sorts of animals.”

“And with foxes the best, mhn?” Tatsuki replies, smiling.

“Hawks perhaps also,” Akinori says, holding Tatsuki’s gaze. Heat runs down his spine, spooling in his center. Past the fields, the country opens up once more. The large city of Chrysanthensia shines as white and bright and blinding as it had the first day Tatsuki laid eyes on it. Not even the clouds overhead accumulating to cast grey shadows over it can diminish its shine. 

Not letting Akinori’s teasing get to him, Tatsuki strides forward. Side by side, he keeps his eyes facing forward when he speaks.

“There were no other activities planned today, were there?”

“Not that I am aware of. Did you have anything in mind?” Akinori asks, to which Tatsuki nods.

“Teaching you how to issue commands with Kyuuko. After basic training, she can learn how to deliver letters and bring back replies to you.”

Akinori snorts. “Surely this is not some self-serving feint to have me write love letters to you, is it?”

Tatsuki knows he’s blushing, knows Akinori sees it too. “If you would wish to,” he starts, then regains his composure. “But if the contents are void of anything…’interesting’, I’d be less inclined to read it.”

Exhaling out the heat and steam in his body, Tatsuki glances to a sputtering Akinori. The hint was obvious enough.

“I am not sure if it’s wise to pen anything as spicy as your imagination is and send it by owl. No offense to you, little princess,” Akinori coos the last words to Kyuuko, who bends her head towards him in quick forgiveness.

*

*

As soon as the door closes behind him, Akinori painfully remembers the last time that Tatsuki had been in his room. Avoiding the spot where he’d stood that time, Akinori walks over to his favourite place at the window. Kyuuko flops down on the table there, looking up at him with interest. She then looks at Tatsuki, who walks towards the table. Akinori looks at them both—watching a pained expression cross Tatsuki’s face when he sees a lone stick in an empty glass bowl.

“Why did you keep this..?” Tatsuki asks, his fingers trailing where the rare berries had been picked off. Even though he doesn’t see it, Akinori shrugs.

“Like animals, trees are living things that deserve our respect. We do not pick our flowers just to let them wilt and die, then throw them away. Everything nature gives can be used. I...might have kept it as a painful reminder of my rank, out of spite. But then I realized that I didn’t want it used for decoration at the dinner table, or to be used on the wood pile to burn our flowers. I don’t know, I just fancy sticks?” Akinori adds with a laugh. Tatsuki nods, either in understanding, or pretending he gets it. 

Akinori wants to lighten up the mood with a joke about Tatsuki’s form being one broad stick, but Tatsuki’s hand moves towards a sleek grey bowl.

“Ah, are these the prayer papers you mentioned?” Tatsuki asks. His hand never touches the bowl, the paper, or indeed the little foxes Akinori had prepared here beforehand.

“The very same. You can put a fox in the bowl and then burn it. Matches are right there too.” Akinori points, surprised when Kyuuko’s beak lifts up the matchbox and upends them in front of Tatsuki. “Wow...clever girl!”

Tatsuki puts all the matches back into the box. “She shouldn’t make a mess,” he reprimands, and perhaps speaks it to her mind too. Kyuuko doesn’t seem too bothered. It doesn’t go past Akinori that Tatsuki puts every single match back. It’s not his religion nor his custom, and Akinori wouldn’t hold it against him.

“She will fit perfectly in my household then. I don’t mind a bit of chaos,” Akinori grins. Chaos-bringer. No one ever calls him that to his face. His mother uttered the name during his sacrificial dance in front of the people. It’s no official title; just the fact every born son brings chaos into the world with them. Akinori never felt cursed, and all the more blessed to have such amazing sisters.

“You should keep your window open at night, let her hunt,” Tatsuki says. He doesn’t seem bothered by any memories like Akinori is. Opening a window way in advance, Akinori hears himself replying. The start of a snarky reply he never finishes. His mind suddenly sluggish. His movements feel slow and awkward. He holds his hand to his forehead, feeling woozy. Closing his eyes, it feels like wind rushes up to him, but it’s not from the opened window. Then he’s caught in two strong arms, and his feet lift the floor. Wait, he doesn’t even feel his legs anymore.

“Wha—” he wheezes. He hears a command, a swift shift of air. The deep whistle of Kyuuko.

Opening his eyes reveals nothing but a blurry face of someone hovering right above him. No, not someone…his one. Akinori smiles, drunk on nothing and falls asleep.

*

*

Worry eats his gut alive. Tatsuki stands further off, pressing white knuckles of his fist against his mouth. He watches the Queen administer gentle words. Her arms move. In the room is only she, her husband the king, and Tatsuki’s own father. No one else was allowed in the room after Natsuko cleansed it. Her eyes had been solid white when she danced around the room. She burned dried up petals and blew the smoke throughout.

Tatsuki doesn’t know why he was allowed to stay. Surely they’d all think he’s done something. Kyuuko found first his father, then Akinori’s parents. Everything after, including the weird motions of Akinori’s family members, went by in an agonizing speed. Tatsuki doesn’t want to ask the question, doesn’t want to hear a negative answer.

His father’s hands clasp his shoulders. “At ease,” he whispers, a rough gravel voice. Tatsuki thumps his fist against his chin—he couldn’t lose his mind here.

Queen Konoha stands upright, watching her son sleep. “He’ll wake up soon.”

Relief rushes in like the harshest wind on the highest peaks close to Tatsuki’s home. His father nods, the male parents talking as they take their leave. Carefully, Tatsuki dares closer. Akinori is peaceful asleep, covered by a blanket with his arms below it. Queen Konoha looks at Tatsuki when he finally stands beside her.

“The sons of our line are bound to bring sacrifices. They tend to pray the most, apart from the queens and first daughters. They know all there is to know about the blood of their sisters, even if theirs is apart from it. I am sure you have come to know a great deal more about our line and our queendom recently. Sons are the most mysterious of the lot, despite the birth giving nothing more but catastrophes and good luck to the country. After, the sons of Chrysanthemum lead a harmless and unburdened life. They’re free to do what they want, have no large obligations. And yet, they feel so connected to their family, their home, these lands. They sing and pray, dance and worship the fox goddess who gave them…no gifts of their own.”

Tatsuki inhales. Gifts…

Queen Konoha turns to him. “I am sure Akinori would like to tell you all about it himself. It’s a privilege after all, to be the most knowledgeable about the rare sons, their achievements and specialities. He’s…sometimes sad that he cannot be more like his sisters. I love all my children, from the first to the last. They’re all precious and special to me, in their own right. But the Queendom favours daughters, for the goddess’ blood flows through them, and she bestows them with privileges unlike any other. I know he’s been lonely. Even when he doesn’t show it,” she says softly, standing up and looking at Akinori before turning to Tatsuki.

It might be disrespectful, but it takes Tatsuki a while to let his eyes peel off Akinori’s form to face the Queen.

“Please take care of him for me? It’s really nothing serious...I am very aware that your house does look down upon ailments and showing of weaknesses.”

Quick to shake his head, Tatsuki then squares his shoulders. “I know he’s not weak at all. He doesn’t...faint a lot?”

It’s the queen’s turn to shake her head. “Years can go by before the wrath of the goddess strikes him down. It’s nothing you should worry about. I am so glad you were able to catch him though. Usually he faints in parks or wherever grass and soft earth is. He’s never fainted out of our eyes, either…”

Tatsuki doesn’t know what her private smile means. She turns to the window, makes a gesture from her heart to her head and lips. Inhaling and closing her eyes, she then walks to pass Tatsuki by. Queen Konoha’s hand is but a feather gracing Tatsuki’s shoulder. And yet, her touch has so much more impact, as the words drive home into Tatsuki’s heart.

“I shall, Queen Konoha,” he says, eyes back on Akinori. After the queen leaves, Tatsuki brings a chair close to Akinori’s bedside. Kyuuko has returned, sitting perched on the windowsill, watching over them.

Her eyes penetrate Tatsuki. She upends the matchbox once more. Tatsuki sighs, getting up to clean after her. She hoots, and he notices that one pink-hued little fox is under her talon. He picks it up, looks to the owl, the bowl, to the match. _It’s not my world,_ he says to Kyuuko, to himself, to the silent room. Even as he says it he realizes how much he wants it to be his world too. What kind of sacrifice he’d make by leaving his old home and family, the changes he would go through. 

He breathes in deep. Puts the fox into the bowl, and strikes the match. Watching it burn, he thinks of the flames of one book page he read, the Vixen within it. Softly he recites.

“I burn this, not for the heat, but to honour thy colours. I burn also, for letting the smokes rinse out all that it is not well.” The heat of the flame comes to Tatsuki’s fingers. He tosses the match on the little paper fox, so unsure of what is right or wrong—only knowing deep down that he wants to do right by Akinori. To stay here and learn. “Please let him wake up safe and healthy.”

The fox burns in bright orange flames, and Tatsuki watches how it dances in the bowl. And yet the paper doesn’t crumble nor blacken. It just burns on, and despite the unknown sight, Tatsuki feels more at ease already.

Servants bring him food and drink, even ask if he requires a bath. The sisters check in one by one, bringing blankets, a footstool to stretch his legs, ordering more wine and water to Tatsuki’s side. Shikika is the last to come in, holding one of her own daughters in her arms. The little girl squeals with sounds of ‘Uncle Aki, uncle Aki!’, shushed right away.

“Heavy is the crown for those who don’t bear it,” Shikika says, leaving them alone once more. Another servant after her brings Tatsuki a book and a journal to write in. A small gift from the oldest princess. The volume was one Tatsuki passed over yesterday in the library. It was full of poems written by Chrysanthemum court, and peasants from the valley. In it, Tatsuki finds a note written by a hand he doesn’t recognize. ‘Perhaps you will find the one that Akinori likes’. Smiling, Tatsuki reads out loud, hoping it will ease Akinori’s rest.

*

*

Waking up, Akinori feels well-rested. It’s in the middle of the night, and a gentle breeze comes from his window. The eyes of Kyuuko stare at him. The pillow dips when Akinori faces the other way. Stilled by the picture in front of him, he eases his heart from skipping beats as he watches Tatsuki stare as equally intent as the nocturnal predator. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Pretty good,” Akinori says, truthful. “I don’t faint often, in case you’d see it as a weakness.” 

Huffing, Tatsuki gets up. He brings a bound object to Akinori’s forehead, tapping it once.

‘Wild are the spirits, valley never empty from their souls  
Running is the wind, the waters, the flow of leaves, the scents of petals  
Power comes in the small, in the big, and in the unseen  
Oh, hear it now, the birth of a boy, as the bells sound.’

Akinori laughs, feeling sleepy. “Not my favourite poem, but passable.”

He cannot read Tatsuki’s dark expression. Nor does he know what to make of him leaving with a simple good night. When the door closes, Kyuuko whistles a small hoot from her perch.

“I don’t know either, princess,” Akinori says, wishing Tatsuki would have stayed.

Would have kissed him good night at least.

*

*

The next day, they find themselves once more gathered in Akinori’s room. Dressed in loose-fitting linen that reveals nothing but a collarbone, Akinori sits at ease with his bare knees forward and his legs crossing under his rear. Tatsuki had chosen a shirt of much the same fit, only in the darker tints of his own wardrobe. The pants he wears are of a tighter fit, much like the ones he wears during sparring.

Kyuuko listens to each of Akinori’s demands. His harnesses aren’t ready yet, so Tatsuki promises to return with other instructions once Kyuuko can safely land on Akinori. Right now, she is learning to bring all his sisters little notes. Akinori wanted them to know he was fine, and to thank Natsuko for the cleanse of his room.

“Do you...burn dried up petals regularly?”

“No. It’s uncommon. We have a special prayer paper. On it you write requests or wishes for the goddess. My people fold it into flowers, any type mostly. I like to fold them into foxes, to honour her. The burning of fresh flowers is something we do at funerals, to aid the passing of a soul with the sweet scents. Dried petals and flowers are mostly for decoration, and every house in this realm is bound to have them lying around,” Akinori says, pointing to a bowl on his desk that has a bunch of them pleasantly arranged. Tatsuki’s eyes stay on it for a moment.

“In any case, we tend to burn the dried petals if there’s negativity felt, or if something less than pleasant happens. Did you find it odd?” Akinori says, turning his head from the window where he awaits Kyuuko to look at Tatsuki’s face. Being masterful at keeping his expression serene, Tatsuki tries harder to make sure Akinori won’t think he did find it very odd.

“I’ve never seen someone’s eyes become white.”

“Ah, that. It’s the Vixen’s spirit flowing through my sisters when they call upon her name,” Akinori says, eyes glancing down. There’s something in his manner that speaks volumes about pretending to be fine with everything. Hiding hurt under layers. Tatsuki recognizes it with ease, but doesn’t comment on it. “Don’t worry. If I dance or pray, that doesn’t happen to me.”

He’s much more demure and to himself than usual. Tatsuki wishes he could summon the courage to caress him, hold him. Instead he says, “Hmmm, I see. That’s good. I mean, I do like your eyes the way they are.”

Akinori huffs a laugh. Does he not believe it? Tatsuki doesn’t know. He crosses his arms, and they listen to the flapping of wings coming closer once more.

The rest of the morning is once more spent with the entire familiar entourage. A lot less pressure was felt on Tatsuki's shoulders, who feels the clue that both sides would want Akinori and him to come together more organically. They receive their wishes, as Tatsuki and Akinori choose to spend lunch in Akinori’s room.

The harnesses have arrived, and Tatsuki takes them from the outfitter’s hands. Akinori turns to them with a smile, “Thank you very much for the quick work.” They take their leave.

Taking a cue from the closed door, Tatsuki fastens the shoulder and elbow harnesses. Kyuuko must be wanting to sleep, but she stays curious and blinks her eyes. Tatsuki doesn’t try to communicate too much with her now, wanting the owl to listen to Akinori.

This time, they teach Kyuuko to fly out to a certain spot, then return when she hears a whistle. The whistles indicate where to land. It’s easy enough, but practice makes perfect. Feeding Kyuuko scraps of their shared lunch, Akinori’s silences become more and longer as the time passes by and no new tricks or commands are needed to be known. Tatsuki wonders if he should take his leave. Perhaps Akinori isn’t fully well yet.

 _He thought I’d hold it against him,_ Tatsuki thinks to himself, unable to forget about those first words out of Akinori’s mouth. 

When Akinori manages every command and whistle by himself, he lets Kyuuko fly up to the rookery for rest. Tatsuki sees his work finished, his gift complete. Upon Akinori turning to him, Tatsuki inclines his head. He doesn’t see another excuse to stay here any longer, despite wanting to.

“I see that you are well enough perhaps to join us at dinner tonight,” Tatsuki says. He wouldn’t mind spending time alone with him again with Akinori though. Instead of answering, Akinori gives Tatsuki an exasperated look. Time to go. Tatsuki turns on his heels, mumbling a good bye. He isn’t one for mumbling, but his words don’t make it out properly.

“You know, I don’t measure you by your usefulness or anything like that. You could just stay here, too. We don’t necessarily have to talk or engage in...activities.” Akinori let’s the last word sit in the room, thicken the air, and make Tatsuki’s gut tighten. He stays still, looking back at Akinori, who starts to smile. “I’ve become quite used to your silences, actually. And I...I don’t want to go out, but I don’t want to be alone either.”

He could ask anyone of his sisters to keep him company. His attendants are right outside, and Tatsuki knows that Motoya and Rintarou are there as well. Tatsuki inclines his head once more, then returns the smile. He sits down in one of the comfortable chairs Akinori has in front of another window. He has the poems in his lap, hiding the title even though Akinori might have recognized the book already. Akinori calls in Komi, calls for a jug of sweetened water and some appetizers. 

“The four of you won’t be needed, I assume. You’re free to do whatever you wish,” Akinori says kindly to Komi, who bows to both of them.

Once the refreshments come in with Komi, Sarukui leaves with a message from Tatsuki to his own attendants that they’re not needed. Tatsuki crumples a message from Rintarou in his hand—“I’d say ‘Good luck’ under different circumstances, but perhaps don’t wear out your weakened prince? If you need anything from your guest room, let me know.”— hoping to dispose of it soon. The door closes to welcome back complete silence. Tatsuki calls to one of his brother’s birds, to take away Rintarou's message. As Tatsuki sits comfortably in the chair, he finds himself at home with it, and at home with Akinori in front of him reading as well.

Leafing through the pages, Tatsuki’s eyes search for keywords. Anything that would make him think immediately of Akinori. But the dreamier and lyrical the poems get, the further away from the enigmatic fox’s character they go. The poems are in general about the queens and the princesses, the lands and what was before. The few that are about a born son, Tatsuki reads more thoroughly, wondering how Akinori sees himself within the words. 

*

*

Akinori cannot shake the feeling that one of his older sisters has something to do with this book being in Tatsuki’s possession in the first place. He’d seen Tatsuki roam the library the other day, but for once, Tatsuki had been restless. And yet, Akinori cannot remember having seen him with a book in hand, not longer than it took to place it back where it came from. Reciting poetry back to each other from the book, Akinori feels pleased when Tatsuki picks favorite verses. Some of them are gloomy, others heroic. Quite befitting this gentle giant, who speaks the previous unseen poetry to Akinori with such effortless intonation and spirit…

 _Blood on the petals, be kind to me Vixen,_ Akinori thinks, quite unsure what to make of any of this. When Tatsuki wanted to leave, it felt like he imagined his duty seen to. But Akinori could also imagine that Tatsuki likes to feel useful, to matter. After all, Akinori feels that way sometimes. It’s been some time since his last fainting spell, and they don’t necessarily come from too much praying either. Akinori wonders if this was the Vixen’s doing, her mysterious and whimsical ways. If she wanted to test Tatsuki; well, he’d passed it in Akinori’s eyes. Natsuko’s reply to him by Kyuuko’s letters have let him in on what transpired while he had been out.

They do not talk about Akinori’s fainting spell, or Tatsuki watching over him. Opening the window, Akinori listens with closed eyes to the murmur and hum of his city. From the stables he can distinctly hear sword fighting—Haruka at it again.

“Hmmm, I need petals,” Akinori says, his eyes flashing open. Tatsuki makes an inquisitive sound, but doesn’t press him. It can wait until later, Akinori decides. Looking at the handsome Tatsuki and his intense stare, Akinori grins. Much, much later.

“The cup,” Akinori says, eyes travelling back to gaze over this side of Chrysanthensia. “You asked about it the other night. I never answered. It is…our best kept secret. All the citizens of our nation know of it, naturally. I wasn’t sure if I should tell you. But, after you opened up about the owl god and what you and your family are capable of…By the tails, I feel like not telling you just isn’t right, you know? I might as well indulge your curiosity.”

He cannot look at Tatsuki. Too much of those eyes, and he might become weak and forsake the history and religion lesson.

“I’m listening,” Tatsuki says.

*

*

It feels like unlocking great secrets and at the same time, it’s more than just that. Having gained Akinori’s trust to even tell him means so much to Tatsuki, who forgets that he was the one telling Akinori about the Dark One in the first place. The cup. He’s seen it everywhere in the palace, on the guards, around the city; the banner of the Chrysanthemum line has one golden accent, a cup held by their fox goddess. The statues of her strewn within the palace and in the city held the cup not aloft, but downwards. It made Tatsuki so curious, who hadn’t asked about it again when Akinori changed the subject back at the dance.

“The cup in the fox goddess’ hands, it is a real relic. The first queen of our nation was a commoner at birth. We had no royalty, no sacred bloodlines. Around us, wars raptured the realms. It was during the first Petal War that the goddess used her powers, and chose one woman and her not-yet-born daughter to bestow parts of it in them. The specifics I cannot tell you—if you’re meant to know—Anyway!” Akinori rasps his breath, seemingly flustered. Tatsuki has the feeling there’s more to what he just said, and it’s not entirely about this nation’s greatest power.

“Legend tells that the fox goddess poured parts of her powers, by blood, into the cup, and handed it to the woman who became the first Queen of our line; Queen Konoha-o-Kiku, of the flower line of Chrysanthemum. Her first child, a daughter, was blessed with a gift that thereafter, each and every first born daughter meant to rule would receive. Every daughter she birthed would receive different powers, but the first and second daughters always had the same; the gift of diplomacy, wisdom and patience for the first, the gift for war, strategy and strength for the second.”

“What happened to the very first son?”

Akinori smiles. “My first predecessor didn’t come until two centuries later. The line of Chrysanthemum, growing longer and more powerful after the first Petal War, believed themselves to be a line that only birthed daughters, princesses. When the very first son was born, he was the third child of our Ninth Queen. At his birth, earthquakes broke the ground, and a 33-day rain filled the crevice to the north. What appeared to be a catastrophe at first later became known as a blessing, given in the name of the first Prince, Kyuutarou. But he showed no sign of gifts. He wasn’t special in any other way. The customs didn’t change much to allow a boy heir to sit the throne, especially because he wasn’t the first born. Plus, who knew what would happen if the line named a King? Would the goddess still bestow her powers? It was never tested. When the second son was born 99 years later, the academics believed in calculations.”

“The number nine is important,” Tatsuki says, not wanting to interrupt the revelation too much. Akinori nods.

“Nine, the holy number, for our fox goddess has nine tails. Prince Dante—a foreign nickname—was born, the sixth in that era’s line, a great fire burned for 66 days. It was the fire that helped the country during the Second Petal War, the last war between flower regentdoms. The academics of the time said that the 6s were in truth hidden 9s. Hence the nickname Dante, a second name given to only him. Calamities came with the birth of sons, but also great blessings. Each and every time a son was born, the number 9 came into play. Each time, catastrophes ravaged the nation without ever harming the people. They say the goddess raged for sons, but then would want to protect her people, and bless them instead.”

“How does the number come into play with you?” Tatsuki asks.

“I was born in the ninth month of the year, on the final day of the first autumn month. My mother is known as the 99th queen, by the way. Shikika will be our 100th queen.”

“Do not tell me where, but the cup is kept safe always?” He asks, as if it is already of great importance to him. As if he’s already married into the family… It wasn’t Tatsuki’s place to ask. All the greater the surprise when Akinori laughs an answer to his face.

“Oh, you have no idea! It’s the holiest of relics, after all. All I can tell you is that it still shines bright, after all these centuries,” Akinori grins knowingly, pleased greatly that he knows not just the location of the relic, but also has seen it with his own eyes. That same shine comes through now. Tatsuki’s heart beats up thickly in his throat. Each and every time he sees this smug little face now, he wants to kiss it. Deep and long…

Glancing at the door, Tatsuki wonders if it was time to leave. The longing in his chest is unbearable. He can’t move however, a clear sign his body doesn’t want to leave. He doesn’t get the chance to try, as Akinori’s hands cover his. He bows forward, brows furrowing, his eyes frightful. 

“Don’t,” Akinori says, and Tatsuki manages to grin back.

“I’ll stay, as long as you have me.”

It should be meaningful, it should convey Tatsuki’s reason for being here in this country in the first place. He feels himself pulled into the smugness of this clever fox and its strange ways, all the more enticing the more time he spends with Akinori. It’s like parts of himself are pulled apart, rearrange anew with more knowledge of this land and Akinori himself. Taking a deep breath, Tatsuki looks over to where Akinori’s bathing chambers are.

“Would you mind if I take a quick bath here?” He asks, watching Akinori’s brows furrow together in mirth.

“A quick bath? Baths usually take an hour,” Akinori laughs. “You can take however long you want. I’ll request hot water for you to be brought,” Akinori says, about to get up. Tatsuki, blinking stupidly, holds his hand up to halt him in his movements.

“My baths take but a moment’s time...and access to hot springs is reserved for our deep mountain cores and special reservoirs. I...My bath is usually ice cold.”

Akinori’s mouth drops. “Wh-That’s not a bath, that’s torture! A bath should be relaxing, soothing, and pore opening!”

Tatsuki shakes his head. “I couldn’t disagree more. Our ice baths are to test the body and the mind. They’re refreshing and mind elating. A quick dip every does so much more for the body. And, with cold water I manage this with ease,” Tatsuki says, pointing to his hair style.

He then has to witness a perturbed Akinori requesting an even more dumbfounded servant for ice cold water. They quickly realize that the kitchens would have to reverse the tactics of making hot water into cold. It’s when Tatsuki realizes a geographical failure in his wish for a cold bath; they don’t have ice here. At least not in the warmer months. The mountains would always have ice or snow somewhere. And most water for baths came from the rains, and kept outside night and day.

“Normal water will do then,” he calls out, not wanting to distress others with a request they cannot meet. Akinori waves him off, then mumbles something to the servant who nods gravely and leaves.

“I’m sorry,” Tatsuki says, feeling a little on the spot. Akinori waves him off once more. 

“We can get the cold water, but it might take a little until they get it. It’s not eh...in the most easily reached places,” Akinori says, then changes the subject by staring at Tatsuki’s hair. “I have wondered… how do you make it stay up like that all the time?”

Tatsuki grins. “When I take my bath, I could show you.” He likes seeing Akinori blush—the memory of Tatsuki’s foolishness re-occuring in his mind perhaps, when Tatsuki stood naked in this room. Instead, Tatsuki explains how he washes his hair upside down (Akinori’s jaw slacks a little) and he then pours a balm into it when it dries, and combs it up (Akinori’s jaw slacks a lot more).

“Wait, you use some sort of...product for your hair? That’s interesting...we don’t do that here,” Akinori says—and it is surprising thinking of how much the Chrysanthemum court cares for looks.

“Rintarou uses it too,” Tatsuki says, his hand making the shape of Rintarou's hair. “Motoyanever got the hang of it, and says he likes his hair as lax as possible, given that his eyebrows steal the show all the time.” They exchange fashion trends of the last 20 years, and Akinori laughs when he learns how big eyebrows got into style one era before Tatsuki’s father’s birth, and never went out of style again.

As the time passes, the servants soon bring normal water for Tatsuki’s baths. He can see how weird they think that it’s not supposed to be hot at all. Slowly, Tatsuki peels himself away from Akinori’s side. Walking over to the chambers, he feels Akinori’s eyes on him.

Hand on the door frame to the bathing chambers, Tatsuki looks over his shoulder. He puts every ounce of seriousness in everything he does, everything he is. The way he looks at Akinori now, the tone of his voice. The sincerity of his words.

“Wouldn’t you like to join me, Prince Akinori?”

And Tatsuki loves to see Akinori’s honest reaction—his widening eyes, his surprised face—switching over to practiced smugness.

“Want me to wash your back, don’t you?”

Tatsuki smiles, confident and sweet. His heart rumbles when Akinori actually gets up from the bed and follows him along. Tatsuki wouldn’t have minded if Akinori stares when he undresses, and finds himself a little lost when Akinori turns to the bathing water instead. He checks the temperature with his hand, shuddering. Tatsuki comes to stand next to him, putting his arm alongside Akinori’s.

“Oh, it’s colder than I thought it would be,” Tatsuki says, paying respects to the servants and Akinori trying their best to meet his wishes. It’s nowhere near as cold as the ice water of his mountains, but it will do. Tatsuki looks over to Akinori, whose ears have become red. Tatsuki snickers, then quickly brings his naked form down into the water. Despite the blush, Akinori sinks down on the other side of the tub, staying.

“What I wondered about most is how you look when your hair isn’t reaching for the skies,” Akinori says without a hint of mockery. Tatsuki stares at him, then dunks himself under the water. When he rises, his hair plasters to the front of his face. Hands reach up to wipe it to the side, but he isn’t fast enough. His body becomes extremely still as Akinori shifts his hair aside. Tatsuki fights the urge to shake his head like he’d do at home. It’s impossible to move with Akinori’s hand on his face, with Akinori’s round, beautiful eyes looking at all of him; not his naked body...but his soul, almost.

Akinori smiles softly, dropping his wet hand to his own side and towels it off. “You look sad and lost like this.”

“I might feel lost sometimes in these strange lands but...I am not sad within your presence, Akinori.”

There it is again, that blush. Akinori gulps, then sputters and tells Tatsuki to shut up and turn around so he can wash his back for him. It’s something Tatsuki definitely could get used to; not just the nice feel of someone’s hands taking care of you. Akinori’s temper, his outbursts, his smiles, his confidence. Tatsuki’s head falls back a little to look at Akinori upside down.

Akinori’s eyebrow shoots up. “Don’t even think of trying to get my hands elsewhere, Tulip son.”

Unsmiling, Tatsuki brings his hand upon the one resting on his shoulder.

“Sad and lost...shouldn’t you at least also say I’m handsome?”

“Gah, you are fishing for compliments hmm! You look very different right now, and the eye must adjust!” Akinori says, slapping Tatsuki’s other shoulder. “Now, bow your head and show me how to wash it.”

“...I usually stand over the tub for this,” Tatsuki says, and Akinori’s hand presses him down before he can even make an attempt to get up. He’s getting reprimanded for wanting to be an exhibitionist all the time. Tatsuki counters that Akinori is not much different. “Even if you wear some fabrics...you show a lot more than you hide.”

They banter back and forth about fashion choices once more, with Akinori never being rough-handed despite his sharp words. Tatsuki can’t help but smile.

Can’t help but want this to be his new every day life.

*

The day becomes dusk within the room, and apart from dinner, Akinori also orders casks of spiced and sweet wine. The servants bring messages forth between mother and son, allowances to miss dinner and apologies for doing so. While Akinori explains that his mom is the most patient person he knows, Tatsuki stays cool; he watches the barrels as they’re placed on heavy-set tables. Those barrels carry their weight in thricefold. The servants put down a couple of appetizers and small dishes Tatsuki has become accustomed to already. He hopes that their actual dinner isn’t lagging too far behind.

“You cannot mean for us to drink even one of those barrels to the bottom,” Tatsuki says. He can drink a lot, but that’s inhuman. Not even the fabled giants of his mountains could put away that much without levelling a city by falling asleep on it.

Akinori’s smile never wavers. It makes his eyes slit, thin and calculating.

“I would need to know what you’re like when you drink one too many, Tatsuki. It’s vital information. A mere bottle wouldn’t do, and the largest bottles are reserved for my parents and oldest sister. I can only request the barrel, and they do not come in smaller sizes.”

“Vital information…you count this as one,” Tatsuki says, not needing to be sure that he heard that right. Of all the things a potential spouse could have asked, he hadn’t thought of this. Tilting his head back, Tatsuki’s mind becomes calculating too. “Then what sort of information am I allowed to request, considering the ‘vitality’ of our possible agreement?”

He enjoys the spots of blushes appearing high on Akinori’s cheeks. Akinori flings his body out of the chair, his linen outfit floating behind him; not quite like tails, and more like a wave. It captivates Tatsuki’s eyes to follow, knowing that staying here now could cause mistakes to happen on a grand scale. Denying Akinori this would cause ire between them, and therefore, Tatsuki eats several of the soft breadstuffs that are special to this nation alone.

Akinori slams his head on one barrel, and Tatsuki swallows quickly when his budding could-be-husband turns around with a flush on his cheeks and a wide toothy grin below it.

“All in time,” Akinori says, bringing a glass of each wine to the table. “First we drink to the gods, the fox and the owl.”

With a heavy heart becoming heavier still, Tatsuki leans forward and grabs the glass. He stands up to face Akinori properly, holding his own glass out for Akinori to clink his against it. Akinori gave him the spiced wine, drinking the sweet himself. Neither closes their eyes, watching the other sip, sip, sip, until half the glass is gone down their throats. Warmth burns Tatsuki’s, all the way down to his stomach.

This is a mistake. But if he makes one, so be it. He can make them together with Akinori. 

Dinner couldn’t come soon enough; a life-saver, as the first two glasses are already wreaking small havoc on Tatsuki’s mind and fingertips. Akinori is worse off, he notices. The speech remains perfect, but the walk is so wobbly. Tatsuki watches on as Akinori opens the door for dinner, then tells the staff to not bother with guests and direct any to the next day. 

“We require absolute peace tonight. And if you must stay at the door, don’t stand too closely! Yes, across the corridor is just fiiine, thank you!” Akinori says, and Tatsuki wonders if peace is truly an option here. He presses a soft piece of bread into the olive oil and chews on it. He hopes that whoever watches over the prince, might extend that care and watch over him too.

Akinori locks his door from the inside. He slumps against it, eyes closed. Then he propels himself forward as if the wind blows from behind him. For a feverish second, Tatsuki braces his body to receive Akinori falling into his lap. The clever man sways as if a ship takes his sea-legs. He manages to sit in his own seat however, sighing deeply and happily as he glances down tonight’s dinner.

“Heaven-sent,” Akinori says, then promptly closes his eyes and puts his hands flat together. Tatsuki bows forward, ready to eat. He waits while Akinori whispers into his fingers, a murmur thanking the fox goddess for her watchful eyes over all of them.

“All of yours, all of mine,” Akinori says in the end, then starts to eat without much else to stop him. Tatsuki holds himself back from moaning when the glazed duck melts in his mouth. During the dinner they drink on and on, if not as fast as before, when Akinori asks a hundred questions about Tatsuki’s home, their ‘palace’, which wasn’t really one to begin with. 

Nothing truly world-shifting happens. In fact, Tatsuki has to make sure Akinori doesn’t drink too much himself. He manages by reminding Akinori he wants to see Tatsuki drunk, not the other way around. From the table and the finished dinner on top, they make their way to the floor. Akinori’s flooring is a lot softer than what Tatsuki is used to in his mountain home. They sit at ease, heads leaning against the bed, the wine still flowing. Tatsuki has to refill their glasses after Akinori whines that he cannot walk anymore. His hand pushes Tatsuki, then trails down over the side of his hip, longingly. 

Tatsuki makes sure they both drink a lot of water. It wouldn’t do for them to become sick.

However, isn’t it part of the marriage? In sickness and in health… At least, he remembers those being the vows here. He murmurs them once he sits again. Akinori looks up, eyes dazed one moment, clear the next.

“Mhnn, that’s the old-fashioned way of saying it,” Akinori says, his head slumping sideways as he looks at Tatsuki. Any moment, his head could fall on Tatsuki’s shoulder. He waits again for an impact that doesn’t come. “During the marriage of my sister, she exchanged this vow with her husband: ‘In our good days and our bad, may the good outweigh the bad a thousand times.’ It sounds better, doesn’t it?” Akinori grins wanly, a hiccup on his tongue. “Our vows...iiif it comes to that...I think they will be something entirely different once again.”

If. Tatsuki can’t help the hope for it grow vast like the distant seas. Sweeping his steady nature, drowning it in want. 

It would be easy to let himself fall into it. To fall towards Akinori’s arms, into his lips. To be wanted and loved, unlike any other person could. He’s perfectly warm here, and they could always pretend nothing happened. Perhaps Akinori searches for some courage from the wine, or for Tatsuki to become more loose in his ways. But he remains a wall to lean onto, if the person beside him would need it. 

Indestructible in his resolve that their first kiss should be sober, Tatsuki remains sitting against Akinori’s bed, vowing not to stay within it tonight. ‘Not now.’ It was a thought often in his mind. When the right time came, he’d know. Akinori would know it too.

Unless that balance is struck, Tatsuki will keep both their honours intact.

“Do you…think of me…?” Akinori asks, his eyes lidded over, faintly gazing to the wall besides the barrels. Tatsuki acts like he didn’t hear it. “When we part and you're…alone in your room. Do you think of me?”

A heavy sigh comes from Tatsuki’s nose. He cannot lie. The wine makes him shameless in how straight forward his answer comes out of him. “Yes, I do.”

“Good.”

Afterwards, Tatsuki doesn’t know what happened. They might have taken a drunken nap. When he opens his eyes it is the dark of night. The candles are lit—no not the candles. The hallway torches. Sentries stand still, their eyes passing no judgement. Tatsuki wonders why he feels so small, when he knows he could tower over most of them. He used to look down on the people here, wasn’t it so?

His feet drag over the floor. He hardly manages a correct step forward. His weight has shifted to one side. And then he feels it, warm against his back, harsh around his wrist; someone is carrying him through the corridors. Some are open to one side, sending a fresh breeze of the Chrysanthensia night air his way. He recognizes this route towards his own room. Yes, these were his door-guards after all. He remembers them. Looking up, Tatsuki fears to see one of his brothers. But the hair colour is sandy yellow, a nice short cut. Akinori huffs a breath.

Akinori—his hands firm on Tatsuki’s wrist and hip, and Tatsuki feels himself lean heavily into his frame.

“Fetch water,” Akinori says, his own words a slur. The guards nod, one opening the door to Tatsuki’s chamber, the second one going on the errand. Tatsuki tries his best to not be dead weight, to carry himself to his bed. Akinori snorts. “I felt like proving to you that I can be strong too. It’s the Vixen’s blessing, I suppose. She strikes disaster one moment, and prosperity follows after. And if we fall, we always have to get up stronger.”

Tatsuki’s body drops on top of the bed, his mind reeling. Then it focuses razor sharp on a passage he had read.

“Water overflow will nurture the land,  
The land that breaks shall bring more good than harm,  
Where there isn’t a daughter, the son will not fade  
For he that learns his sisters ways, protects his mother’s lands, and fulfils his goddess’ prayer,  
Shan’t ever fall, without getting up stronger.”

Akinori leans over him, his smile as smug as ever. Tatsuki’s body is fire and ice at once, warring over pulling Akinori close after all, or lying deadly still until Akinori makes his own move.

“Ding, ding, and ding, that’s the poem I like the most. And hey, don’t forget your clothes,” Akinori slurs, his own body swaying when he leaves. Leaving…Tatsuki wants him here. But no, it’s better he leaves. He can’t have him. Not yet. Not like this. He should call something after him; call him beautiful, or other compliments. Instead, Tatsuki’s words follow Akinori half out the door.

“That’s not a poem, it’s prose…” Tatsuki says, watching Akinori’s wide grin disappear behind the half-open door.

When Akinori is gone, the water comes. As soon as Tatsuki has drunk a substantial amount, and has enough left for when he wakes up, he falls dead into his bed, and attempts to fall asleep. Even with his eyes closed, all he sees is Akinori. And all he wants is whatever his drunken state allows himself to think of.

*

*

Fresh air is all he needs. Akinori knows that one servant shadows him, holding at the ready one jug of water. Akinori has half a mind to send the poor person away. Tell him he’s not needed. Akinori would never say such a thing to another human being, so he lets his moving shadow feel useful.

What he needs is a breeze, grass under his feet. Despite dropping Tatsuki off in his assigned room, heaviness still burdens Akinori. He finds his way—half-blind from the wine, but he knows his home—to the quarry. In a matter of days the wooden archways had been taken down, as most of the flowers have dried up or become slack. They are kept safe in a revered pile within one corner of the garden. If they can’t be used for prayers, they would become compost. But Akinori finds the hallowed flowers of his line before. He doesn’t trust himself to light a fire and burn it however. Especially not after hearing Kyuuko hoot at him from a perch on top. She is a second shadow, and Akinori sees her presence as a warning to stay wise.

The fresh air does wonders to ease his burden as he walks over the grass, shoes left with the waterbearer. His mind feels lighter and clearer already.

Yes, he came here to pray. Unlike on the day that he received the marriage proposal from the Tulip line, he wouldn’t remain stationary. Grabbing handfuls of the chrysanthemums, Akinori dances around in circles. He doesn’t stumble. It’s so much more rudimentary than his sacred dance. The crushed and dead petals fly from his hands, landing criss-cross; he hops and walks over them, not once tripping or falling. Kyuuko flies circles around him. She’s smart enough not to catch a petal, or pick them up from the floor. Leaving the owl to be, Akinori closes his eyes and starts to hum his prayer.

Repeating it—over and over again—until part of the emptied garden has trails of chrysanthemums petals. Not a picture like Haruka did during her last sacrificial dance. But Akinori believes the whimsical and the careless calls more to his goddess than anything perfect and clean.

“Perfect...clean...Don’t think so either, sweet owl daughter of mine?” Kyuuko hoots louder, then flies off. A whimsy might have caught her, or she heard prey somewhere else. With his pet owl gone, Akinori turns on his heels, letting the petals fly and fall in circles around him. “If only he was here so I could kiss him,” Akinori whispers to himself, allowing the petals in his hand to carry his wish to his goddess. 

But could the Vixen break him down, when approximately half an empty barrel of wine has done nothing? Even the intoxicated version of the youngest Washio would not fold, would not succumb. He wouldn’t lose himself, nor his honour. Somehow, it’s for the better. Why wait for a kiss when he could as easily take it? Yes, Akinori likes that idea a lot better. Take the initiative, make him blush. His other hand releases more petals, continually picking some from the pile or off the ground to replenish. It’s then that Akinori notices a third, even faster shadow.

_Bloody petals...is that—_

Noticing him a second too late. Tatsuki barrels into him from behind, tackles him to the ground. They tumble over the petals before halting on a patch of grass. Akinori laughs, not feeling pain. He slaps Tatsuki’s arms, bringing them around him. They cuddle for the first time, back to chest, Tatsuki’s mouth dangerously close to the nape of Akinori’s neck. There one moment, then thinking better of it. Tatsuki’s chin pushes into Akinori, as if he’s scolding him for everything. 

“What were you doing?”

“First of all, why are you not where I left you?” Akinori says, watching his shadow-servant hide behind a pillar, giving them privacy. If the spies his mother employed were still somewhere around, they’d have a field day.

“You weren’t there,” Tatsuki says, his voice not a murmur or a whisper. He says it as bold and as clear as one may expect from a man from the mountains. His mountain-man, Akinori remembers, happy beyond belief. Not yet his, but as good as! Lying in that warm embrace, Akinori explains that he was praying.

“…For what?”

Turning into Tatsuki’s arms and lying on his back, Akinori holds his breath. He looks at the stars, then at the dark eyes looking right at him, and him alone. His mind conjures the reasons. _This. Everything. More. You and me._ Instead he says, “Prosperity for these lands, and yours.”

“…You pray so much…” Tatsuki says, a snore following his next breath. Akinori wants to kick him awake. Now he has to haul this large lump of a man all the way back again. They might as well fall asleep here…Who was there to judge? The servant wouldn’t dream of it, and the fox goddess…She might just enjoy the whimsy of their wants. Want. It’s what Akinori feels when Tatsuki’s arms tighten around him. His.

“You have hardly seen me pray,” Akinori replies.

Tatsuki’s words come slow, with each breath ghosting over Akinori’s hair. “You talk about it...all the time...I can hardly imagine...and yet I see you in my head…”

 _Let me be his forever,_ is the last prayer Akinori sends up to the stars. Then one less divine and more meant to encourage himself, “Please let me be strong enough to bring him back a second time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, all the chapters are pretty long, but I had so much work with editing chapter breaks and figuring it out...because like, this chapter? Used to be 17k www
> 
> Being mid-point, I hope everyone enjoys reading! I knew from the beginning that there wouldn't be a humongous readership, but honestly? I love this pair, this fic, this story! I wrote it so much for myself and for the people who do love them too and commented on the other stuffs. Even if royalty aus or 'arranged' marriages aren't your thing...I hope if you gave this a chance you do not regret it~


	5. Not even a Nine-tails could conjure up this storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after their drinking night is spend tenderly with the families.
> 
> Akinori needs to find out things, becomes tired of giving, and needs Tatsuki to truly state his intentions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly writing the breakfasts is my favourite thing??? and this one is easily the funniest for me c: I love Konoha's father btw. I know he's my oc, but I made him such a kind and funny man--he's such an mvp throughout it all~

The next day, Tatsuki finds himself at a table nursing the headache of a lifetime. To the outside world he might appear sleepy; still, in the presence of his father and his oldest brother, Tatsuki keeps his head high, shoulders low, and back straight. He wonders if this is what it will feel like to their enemies, if Onaga’s battlegoat’s armour rams them. He thanks the kitchens for the eggs, as he nurses one egg dish after the other. They make him feel more and more like a human and less like a corpse.

Across from him, sitting besides his oldest sister, Akinori doesn’t look any better off. They had drunk a lot of water last night, and it might have done the trick of enabling them to get up and walk and be sociable with their families. As it is, Kyuuko eats more of Akinori’s breakfast than he himself. Pecking his fingers gently, the owl leaves soon after.

They were seated from highest ranks to lowest, pairs facing each other. Apart from the king of the Chrysanthemum house; the odd number out, he placed himself at their end of the table. His idle talk is a welcome background noise. Neither Akinori nor Tatsuki are meant to actually answer, and their nods and grunts go a long way.

“A what now?” The queen says, and Tatsuki rolls his head to her. Prince Tetsuya repeats.

“A wafflequanter. Small, pointy backs, pointy snout? Very short legs.”

“I think…they’re brown in colour, yes? And the back is more like upturned needles…Ah, we call them porcupinsies!” The queen says, the word matching her tongue a lot more than it could ever fit the mouth of a Tulip man. “It could be that one made its way into the gardens, but it’s quite a feat of how it would have gotten there.”

Eating his current dish—eggs sunny side up surrounded by a spicy red paste—Tatsuki keeps his eyes low and his ears listening. Were they speaking of Akinori’s little flower dance, where he spread the piled up petals all around like an art project? Tatsuki’s dense mind manages a few thoughts to the way those petals had been treated. He keeps his tongue however, and listens to his father’s most diplomatic and understanding continuation of the conversation. In front of him, Akinori has also succumbed into a deeper silence and aloofness from the table’s current topic.

“It can be quite normal for woodland creatures to create messes with the petals. It’s all in the goddess’ grace, who wouldn’t mean for them to be harmed or judged,” Queen Konoha explains, and with her next breath, she guides the topic away. Shikika aids her masterfully.

Akinori’s father leans in towards Tatsuki. “Yes, it’s very normal for prickly creatures to create night-time mysteries involving petals. One could even believe to have heard prayers sung in the night.” He leans back as quickly, adding in to the new topic one thing or another. Tatsuki keeps eating to regain his strength and sanity, his mouth always full. A glance at Akinori shows the other hiding a blush behind a napkin.

More tea comes to the table, to their mugs. The servant giving Akinori his tea looks up over Tatsuki’s head. Soon he finds Akinori, Fuyuko, and the servant show similar faces of quiet confusion. Tatsuki hears a familiar crack of bone, and turns around.

Behind him, hands behind his back and dressed in all-black and dark browns, Rintarou's bent far to his side, nearly horizontal. He blinks at Tatsuki, and the questioning stares behind his friend. 

“Ah, sorry? All this standing around...A man needs to stretch sometimes,” Rintarou says, quickly standing upright. Komori hides a laugh behind his hand and fakes a cough. Tatsuki snorts softly. Rintarou's flexibility might be something to get used to. He turns around too fast, feeling a headache stomping his neck and into his brain. It is only softened by Akinori’s smile.

“Mhnnn, I am coming to understand that your people aren’t as rigid as I thought,” Akinori says, hiding a smile behind his mug of tea. Fuyuko slaps his arm, and their father quickly adds that the Tulip court is known for their exercise, and reprimands Akinori for presuming their guests were 'rigid’. Tatsuki glances away, fully aware that Akinori’s comment was more meant for him—the way he curled around the other boy last night.

Of all the days to have a close group like this to enjoy breakfast, it had to be this morning. Tatsuki knows what it means; this was meant to be a chance for them to announce something. If any announcement was there to be made. The matter was after all a delicate one. Tatsuki is sure of himself that he made his intentions as clear as he could. It was in Akinori’s hands now. Of course, there was so much to know and to explore. Tatsuki didn’t know that concerning their match, how much further they would go in that regard.

Finishing breakfast, the current and future ruler of the queendom get up slowly, excusing themselves for leaving first. They have state affairs to take care of, business with other flower countries. The Tulip men stand up as one, bow to the queen and the princess as they leave. The kings make their way out of the breakfast balcony, and Tatsuki barely hears their plans for the day.

As soon as they’re out of earshot, Tetsuya passes behind Tatsuki, touching his shoulders. 

“Well done, you survived that beautifully,” Tetsuya grins, then continues on after nodding his goodbye to Akinori by saying “Prince Konoha,” and leaves via another exit.

Around them, the servants slowly clean the dishes and leftover breakfast. Akinori waves his hand for them to take his breakfast things away too, and to only leave the tea. The table clears, with Tatsuki too having eaten enough. He watches Akinori who clearly avoids his face all together. Most effectively so, by putting his forehead on the table.

“There’s a hundred elephants stomping in my head.”

“…I can imagine. They have finished their dance routine in my stomach,” Tatsuki says, and it riles Akinori up the way he’s hoped for. Akinori glares at him.

“My father grilled me about the petals. He said that I somehow managed to put them down in a pattern unlike any of my…more sober and more sacred prayer-dances. I never even try to make a pattern! I can’t believe I didn’t stumble once…” Akinori says, his arms below the table, his head hanging low over it. His eyes are as tired-looking as Tatsuki feels. They look upon the tea, unsure if drinking it would help him or worsen his status.

“I wonder about that. I thought you said there was just the one dance you do…”

“For the public, yes. I do my part for saying prayers in private,” Akinori says, lifting one hand up to take a sip of his tea. “A lot. For the people, naturally. I don’t have much to offer, and no one actually knows if my words and wishes reach the divine. No one might care if I pray for our queendom once or twenty times a day. But it’s not like I do it for their approval, right? As long as it comes from the heart…even a son like me can do his part to please the goddess and ask for her to look over her people. Our family thinks it works. And when we use petals, well, the goddess will take notice.”

Nodding slowly, Tatsuki finishes his tea. “Then, what did you pray last night?”

He hadn’t expected for Akinori’s face to turn this shade of red. Then Akinori pipes up, “I told you! Prosperity for the lands and all that…You asked me already.”

Tatsuki doesn’t have the faintest idea that he did. More interested in Akinori’s current reaction than the black hole in his memory, Tatsuki switches seats. He takes the end one, to be a bit closer to Akinori. The stampede focuses restlessly behind his ribs.

“Why did you turn red just now?”

It doesn’t take a second for Akinori to come up with an unconvincing lie. “Left-over effect of the wine, I guess!”

Snorting, Tatsuki doesn’t even deign to acknowledge the fib in any way. They both stay seated, with Akinori drinking his tea slowly. The weather is nice after all, and none of the servants usher them out. Did their families mean for them to come to a decision right now? Or talk things through? Tatsuki wishes he knew. His father didn’t pressure him much at all, and his brothers hardly ask questions. It’s as if they think it’s safest to let them go on like this. Perhaps, the fox family had a hand in that matter, too. The queen and her daughter were incredible at swaying moods and topics.

“Are they…annoying you?” Akinori asks, his tea mug empty and his hands once more hidden under the table. His eyes look down at Tatsuki.

“Who?”

“Your family. Mine teases me only a little, but they don’t exactly push or ask me too much. Whenever we’re alone, I always expect my sisters to pester me. But it becomes less and less. Not even when I led you—when we got lost in the woods a little. It’s like they already think it natural for us to be alone together.”

“Together,” Tatsuki repeats, the word holding so much importance. To others, to their families, to their nations. To a future that doesn’t just involve a ceremony with vows and exchanges of gifts and rings—but also trade routes, tax cuts, helping one another out in all matters. War wasn’t on the horizon, but if it came to it—the union between their regentdoms would also mean coming to aid the other, no matter the peace kept with the other countries or factions. The topic is too heavy, and Tatsuki finds his gaze flicker back to Akinori. “Hmmm, so you finally confess that you did it on purpose.”

“I did nothing,” Akinori hisses, his eyes squinting at Tatsuki. There was definitely left-over wine in both their bodies. 

“My family strangely leaves me be. I feel the pressure nonetheless.”

“You do?”

Tatsuki nods. “My father is very blunt. Never oppressive, but I feel like I cannot fail him, or I’ll fail everyone.”

“…I see.”

“That doesn’t take away from the fact that I have made up my own mind,” Tatsuki says. The last he would want is for Akinori to think for one second that what Tatsuki does, says, and wants are in one way or the other based on anything but his true feelings. “At least, I can be sure of the matter that I do not dislike looking at your face, or feel less than in your presence. I enjoy…being with you, Akinori.”

Akinori huffs a laugh, placing his chin onto the palm of his hand. “Are you in fact proposing to me?”

His mind is dense. But the knowledge of what he feels and how strongly it runs through him couldn’t be more clear. Could he admit that much to Akinori, whose grin didn’t fade? Was it really the turn for serious and world-altering matters to fall between their currently easy going vibe?

“We both know that it was the idea of my house. You know why I am here. If you’re not sure of what I want, then you have not yet come to know me well. I think it has been made clear by your family that the final decision is yours. It’s up to you, what you want—and if that includes me or not,” Tatsuki says, unable to just be as bare and vulnerable as Akinori might need him to be. He looks away, unable to finish his thoughts into words. 

_What is wrong with me? Akinori and his family have made it obvious that what I might see as vulnerable, is considered a strength here._

“If you excuse me,” Tatsuki starts, getting up from the table. _What am I doing?_ Perhaps…perhaps Tatsuki couldn’t fully be sure that Akinori’s mind was set on him, on their union. Could it be after all the skirmishes, Tatsuki was afraid and just running away from that possible truth? Retreat wasn’t always defeat, but turning his head away from Akinori felt like losing the most important battle in his life.

_But what if—_

“No, I don’t. You’re not excused,” Akinori says, his hand catching Tatsuki’s wrist. “I—” Akinori says, and Tatsuki knows that he won’t say anything that would make the world stop turning. Akinori wouldn’t say what was the truth of his heart, the same way Tatsuki guarded his own. Yet he looks down to that face, a beautiful hue of pink still resting high on the cheeks. Lashes turn down, making Akinori’s demure face looking utmost kissable. 

There’s no pressure in the hand that catches his fist however. Longing and acting upon that feeling are two different things. Tatsuki sighs, gently unlocking his wrist from Akinori’s hand and watching it drop to the table.

“If you excuse me,” he repeats, “I will take my leave now. If there’s anything you need to know or be sure of in your…quest, you know where to find me.”

Leaving is the hardest thing. Despite his wrist being free, Tatsuki still feels chained. He turns without looking back. There’s no stammering behind him, no pleading for him to stay. Tatsuki figures, as his feet fly over the white marble flooring, that he could have made it easy. Putting his heart on a golden platter and offering it up was just…not something he’d had to do before. Then again, he had to get used to a lot of things here. And definitely most of them weren’t negative. 

If he learned one thing on his stay here, is that the goddess revered in this land was whimsical and tricky, powerful and charming. Her blood and gifts ran through the female line. For all the flowers in the world, some of it Akinori must have inherited too. Tatsuki wasn’t here to be toyed with, and he just couldn’t be sure if Akinori would change his mind, or play with him. And yet, he told the boy to come find him if he needed any clarity…

He was so foolish, but Tatsuki doesn’t want to take it back. He can only hope that Akinori is braver than he, and that he will voice his true feelings for Tatsuki. Whatever those may be.

*

*

The day feels odd without a prospective task or outing planned. Tatsuki walks back to his room, intending to sleep off the remaining influence. He wasn’t one to doubt himself, neither in the capabilities regarding his body and strength, nor things he said. The oddest feeling washes over him; doubt through and through. Had he actually done and said the right things? Could Akinori possibly believe he was rejected?

Lying on his bed, he closes his eyes. Tries to make the crease between his brows cease to exist. Relaxation sadly doesn’t come when he commands it by will. Legs straight, hands clasped above his stomach, sleep doesn’t come as easy as Tatsuki wishes.

When it does, doubt whispers him silently to not expect anything grand from an eccentric prince.

*

The nap does wonders to vaporize his hangover. Another headache all together shows up as soon as Tatsuki opens his eyes. Akinori is not close enough to kiss him, but close enough to be a nuisance. Tatsuki doesn’t blink, wondering what this fox prince was cooking up this time. Akinori’s weight dips the bed where he sits down at his one side, his hand close to Tatsuki’s arm on the other. No parts of them are touching, and yet irritation and excitement run over Tatsuki in small waves. He hovers over Tatsuki like a shadow, those eyes squinting down. 

“What?” Tatsuki asks, not moving another muscle.

“A man has to know if the guy he might share a bed with snores or not. And what his sleeping face looks like. Imagine our first night together,” Akinori paints the picture, his voice changing to a story-telling mode. 

“Everything is lovely after the biggest and most important marriage of the ages, between sons who don’t matter that much to their lines no less. And then I’d find out I would never get rest in the same bed as you, because lo and behold, you snore down the palace. Or that your sleeping face is absolutely hideous, giving me nightmares about waking up next to you. And! What if you move around like a restless dog? Although,” Akinori snorts, not even out of breath. He sits up straighter, crossing one leg over his knee. “You in fact sleep like the dead. Do you always position yourself as stiff as a corpse?”

He gestures a hand over Tatsuki’s form, who has half a mind of capturing it, kissing it, then flipping the entire man down beneath him. But the monologue had Tatsuki deadpan. He thinks he understands most of what Akinori was on about. But the only son of this family left too many openings for Tatsuki not to explore.

“If I would give you sleepless nights…I can guarantee you would spend them in enjoyment. In any case, you’d only need to tell me if you would like to spend the night with me, and thoroughly test out the experience beforehand, prince.” He wasn’t against it. No single fibre in Tatsuki would mind spending the night with Akinori, before even laying down the reality of them marrying or not. Naturally, Tatsuki wouldn’t agree to go all the way before the bond is solidified.

Akinori blinks fast, his mouth open as he sputters, “As if. I have been told that Washio-men do not likely entertain intercourse before marriage.”

Tatsuki rolls his eyes, sits up on his bed. Akinori watches him with apprehension, as if the fox was now a chicken, to be eaten by a larger predator. Rolling his shoulders back, Tatsuki groans out deep, knowing what the sound he makes could be interpreted as. Smiling at Akinori’s blushing and astonished face, he challenges him.

“Are you telling me you hadn’t thought about it? I have…many times.” He’d told him already, that much Tatsuki remembers. He thought he’d been very clear on that. But it bears repeating.

He even enjoys when Akinori turns huffy and snooty. Putting airs on, his nose up, chin jutting out. The petulance on him is now kind of adorable. Tatsuki knows what riles him up, and what lies beneath it. 

“It might have crossed my mind. In fleeting,” Akinori says, not ready when Tatsuki comes forward. Now he’s the one bringing their faces closer. He takes it as a good sign that Akinori doesn’t back down from that. Putting a thin brow up, Tatsuki doesn’t believe a word of it. Surely he would have been more on that man’s mind, especially at night? There was no place for doubt in Tatsuki’s head, not now that the hangover had abated, and Akinori had snuck in his room. To watch him sleep, yes. Perhaps to affirm that Tatsuki wasn’t hideous in his slumber. 

“ _If_ you want to know anything Akinori, speak your piece. Or hold your silence, never knowing.”

Tatsuki doesn’t want to retreat anymore, and is as unconcealed as possible. He would take what he wants, but Akinori wasn’t yet his to take. No, it was up to Akinori to be more forward. Vocal. Wanting. Tatsuki can only hope to be ready when that storm hits him.

*

*

If Akinori would have to list up the many ways Tatsuki has behaved abnormally in his home…well he’d only have to think of the boar and could be done with it; so massive was that slight. However, to be challenged in his own home like this, Akinori could not let it slide. 

Putting his hands beside his rear on the bed, Akinori slowly shifts his legs, one knee over the other, foot in the direction of Tatsuki. He likes it when those eyes can’t help but look down at the bouncing foot. Smiling, Akinori puts his chin on his shoulder. His eyelids lower to the bedroom eyes he’s been practicing in the mirror. He notices the most minute change in Tatsuki sitting position, bracing himself perhaps. _Oh, that’s good,_ Akinori thinks, licking his lips. And his voice lowers in a way he’s been perfecting even before his mountain prince came down to the valley in hopes to claim a prize.

“Well, if you’re offering it like that. There’s a saying in my country, most specially, it’s a saying of my line. A joke between the siblings, actually. You see, we think that whoever comes here to win themselves a foxy princess should show what makes them worthy—to test the fool who thinks he could tame a daughter of the goddess, a wild fire that no godly downpour could ever douse. ‘To who dares speak a need, they most show their worth a hundredfold’. The thing is, Tatsuki, son of the mountain,” Akinori whispers that last part, shifting his ass closer to where Tatsuki is an immovable, unblinking rock. 

“Human storms like me cannot be put out by the hand of a man. It needs incredible courage to try that much.”

To his surprise, Tatsuki smiles. He softens, somewhat. As if the mountain would soften for a breeze.

“But you are no daughter. And in my eyes you are more than just a godly invention. You are—most undoubtedly—a welcome catastrophe.”

The air shifts. More so, Akinori feels that certain kind of electricity firing up in his lower areas. His toes curl unseen in his boots. He keeps his clammy hands flat on the mattress. Unable to look away from Tatsuki for one moment. It wasn’t even about being submissive to the other, if he’d looked away. Tatsuki has told him exactly what he wants. 

“Hmm, I can be gentle, for the right man.” Akinori brings his head forward, but dips his head the last moment. Fear ruins his body, makes it as cold as ice. Anticipation and want had brought him this far. Why couldn’t he just kiss Tatsuki the way he wanted to?

Instead, the wreckage of his plan comes to a close as Tatsuki’s lips press a gentle kiss on his forehead. Akinori’s eyes widen; the spark there filtering through his veins. He could leave behind empty titles; where he was, how this was his home, a guest bed he was sitting on, or whatever the future might hold. Stripped of it all, he was just a man who had a need, and it was to know Tatsuki as intimately as he’d let him. But Akinori couldn’t do it without a safety wall up.

It shifts over his face when he looks up; confidence mingling with the bratty prince Tatsuki had expected to find on his first day here. “In my…quest as you called it, to get to know you. I think it should be my right to test our…compatibility.” Akinori quirks an eyebrow, looks distinctly to Tatsuki’s mouth. He watches one corner of it quiver, a smile fading.

“And how would you have us test that?”

Akinori shrugs his shoulders, as if he doesn’t care. “There would be no need to marry a man who doesn’t know how to kiss me right.” Akinori unwinds, bringing himself into a better position. His heart shakes when he watches Tatsuki make space for him; sitting back, wanting him to sit on top. Akinori sits closer on the bed’s edge, bringing only an arm to cross over Tatsuki’s lap. To steady him as he leans forward and into the swallowing of fear, the dive down a waterfall, the rush of not knowing—

teasing mouths open at the seams, re-closing as a new whole as their mouths meet

—to knowing Tatsuki’s warm mouth against his. The feel of his palm, fingers trembling before they brush Akinori’s face. Akinori shuts his eyes, takes a simple inhale before he angles his head. The faintest of sounds comes from between their lips, as the bed sheets rustle below. Tatsuki sits forward, his hand never leaving Akinori’s face. And Akinori wants to eat him alive, to let the hunger consume them. At least, he’d expected to be kissed back, to have that same fire waiting for him. But Tatsuki—maybe he was being shy?

Akinori’s hands run over Tatsuki’s neck, angling his own a little. The brush of lips is more than fire or thunder. It’s the rush of the goddess’ love he feels when he dances for her. The pride of a nation sitting on his shoulders when he goes all out. But just like on any other normal day, Akinori is not special. Why isn’t Tatsuki moving his lips!? He just…sits there, letting Akinori embarrass himself. It doesn’t help when Tatsuki’s hand catches his elbow, or the thumb running over the soft side. Is this encouragement? For what? Akinori believes it wise that he hasn’t shown his own want. Tatsuki might be humming into the kiss, but that’s all he does. Akinori knows how it feels like to kiss someone for minutes on end. But he stops this intimate session, unwilling to reveal his best moves. Akinori is sure he could get himself a husband with kissing alone, and yet, Tatsuki just sits there.

Parting, Akinori covers his mouth, hiding how out of breath he is. Was he being stupid? Perhaps Tatsuki only wanted to relieve some tension that had built up between them. Nothing more…

Warm lips kiss his cheek, his now burning ears. Tatsuki is all around him, like a whirlwind. 

“Do not tell me you were planning to run away. Chicken?”

“Excuse yourself!? You didn’t react…at all.”

Tatsuki’s hand circles over his back, his eyes full of concern. That same hand goes back to Akinori’s elbow, pressing the lower arm down. Akinori notices by touch as clear as daylight, how much Tatsuki is reacting. His bulge presses up into his arm, after all.

“I wasn’t sure if kissing back was customary or not—”

“Oh will you shut up,” Akinori sneers, his hands in Tatsuki’s hair, aiming to ruin it and let the entire palace know who kissed this boy. Who will continue kissing him if the goddess permits the union to be fruitful. “You’re such an ass! I stated clearly that I wanted to know if you could kiss me right!”

“You said, ‘a man’. You’ve called me many things so far, and I wasn’t sure,” Tatsuki says in all seriousness, but Akinori’s shock doesn’t last. He sees exactly where Tatsuki has cracks, leaking mirth and teasing. Still, not being kissed back hurts a lot, and Akinori isn't fond of this kind of chest pain. He pushes Tatsuki away, opting to leave and return the sting. Akinori gets as far as off the bed and stands up. Tatsuki pulls his elbow again, pulls him hard to himself. It’s a sloppy Akinori meeting pure brick. His closed lips do not allow a sound to come out as he falls towards the warm and steady embrace.

And then Tatsuki’s mouth descends on him like a downpour, aiming to drench Akinori from head to toe. Akinori hadn’t been ready to be kissed back, after all. He’s pulled into a tight embrace as Tatsuki’s mouth works against his, hearing the hum and groan of more and more. Not one to remain immobile, Akinori rearranges himself to sit on top of Tatsuki. They’re both hard, feeling every inch of that need between them. Akinori’s fingers abandon the ruination of that perfect hair, to roam down Tatsuki’s back, up to his shoulders. Feeling all there is of that strength emanating in every move and gesture.

He feels that simple surety in everything Tatsuki does, how he conveys feelings so primally. Akinori is special to Tatsuki, just by being himself. They have no crowns to offer, no lands, no insane wealth. And Tatsuki still wants him. Akinori couldn’t have guessed that a man from the cold mountains would know how to bring this kind of heat. He feels it in the hands, roaming his back, undoing his clothes. Has perceived it during their dance, too.

When Tatsuki dares to pull back, Akinori bites him in the chase. He pulls those lips back to him. 

“That went very well,” Akinori says, sensually aware of the warmth throbbing beneath him. Tatsuki stays silent, his eyes just staring up as if he sees Akinori for the first time. Akinori hits his chest. “If you’re waiting for a definite answer, I mean, _the answer_ —well! I’m going to make everyone wait just because I can!”

He enjoys a little too much how Tatsuki’s face shifts. His silence has Akinori’s lips move faster. “That stint at breakfast…You know my head was woozy! I was still recovering and you had to be so…so harsh.”

“…It’s my nature.”

“Yes well, it’s not mine! So I guess, we can both learn from one another and—and see, I forgive you for being such a brute,” Akinori says quickly, haughty to the core. He sniffles. “That’s no way to win a prince, you know.”

“I don’t want to win ‘a’ prince,” Tatsuki says, and for a second it’s Akinori’s insides that shatter. “Just the one,” Tatsuki continues. Before Akinori can react, Tatsuki’s arms become tighter around him, his hips tipping upwards. “And I am fairly certain that you will enjoy my…brutish ways.” Tatsuki kisses him again, and they inhale deep as it lengthens. When Tatsuki looks at him then, Akinori is sure he will forgive this man anything.

“And…if it really has to come down to it…I am willing to make it up to you with more sensitivity, Akinori…”

The words alone could make Akinori’s ears blush, the way they’re spoken down his lips have his legs become useless. It’s good and bad at the same time that Tatsuki’s thighs are under him.. Better yet that Tatsuki’s arms hold him firmly in place. Speaking of firm, Akinori hasn’t forgotten about their desires. He won’t back down from this challenge though. As slick as he can, he shifts around to let one of his own legs slide right back between Tatsuki’s. Akinori shows restraint with how careful he grinds his thigh into Tatsuki’s hardness, and when the reaction is minimal, with a little bit more force.

“Be careful, mountain son. Or you will find out what riling me up will get you.”

“Funny…that’s exactly what I want to know,” Tatsuki rumbles, kissing Akinori silent. Akinori’s hands run up the chest, over the point where neck and shoulder meet. They tangle up so much that Tatsuki topples them onto the bed, brought low at last by Akinori’s ministrations. From vertical to horizontal, their mouths don’t let a breath of space between them, continuing with feverish groans of need.

It’s when their needs meet in the middle that Akinori’s eyes roll back and close. His spine arches, chest upwards to meet Tatsuki’s. His knees widen a little, and he feels no shame in showing how ready he is to be ravaged by Tatsuki.

“I think knowing just how well you could please me in each and every way is exactly what I need to know right now,” Akinori says, hand brushing Tatsuki’s hair back. He’s once more not ready for Tatsuki’s reaction. To watch fear and doubt enter those stony eyes. Or the Adam’s apple bop with the swallow of them. Tatsuki becomes so still on top of him that Akinori thinks he must have said the wrong thing. He lowers his head, until that wide, brooding forehead touches upon Akinori’s hair-covered one.

“One such as me…I would be honoured to make the attempt of serving that purpose for a lifetime.” Previous overbearing heat freezes over in his veins. Akinori becomes still too. He doesn’t dare blink. After a pause in which Tatsuki inhales the air between them, he says, “Would you accept—”

“Yes,” Akinori breathes out, not needing to hear it. “Goddess yes. A hundred times over.” 

He watches Tatsuki’s eyes blink slowly, before lowering his head all the way. The rock upon him melts with all his weight. Akinori can take it, welcomes him. Tatsuki covers and envelopes him, his tongue less an intruder or conqueror. It’s a gentle touch that parts Akinori’s lips, whose body responds wanting more of just the same, more of what else Tatsuki might give.

Even if Tatsuki leaves him breathless, Akinori pushes that stern face with his hands. Holds it, making sure Tatsuki doesn’t go too far away. “I need to hear it too, you know? I…I need you to be honest and open with me. Even if it’s hard or…not something you’re used to. I don’t want to keep guessing.”

Tatsuki rocks his hips forward once. Akinori bites his lips as the friction is too much to bear.

“Is my body language that hard to read?” Tatsuki asks, teasing a smile as he kisses Akinori’s face. Akinori looks up to the ceiling. He shouldn’t be crying, but the tears come all the same. When one runs over his cheek, he feels Tatsuki licking it away. Concern returns to that gorgeous and severe face. Akinori laughs, snorting both a giggle and a gasping sob out. It’s hard to look at Tatsuki right now, knowing that his house thinks of tears as weakness, or something to be hidden in a dark chamber with the candles blown out and no one there to witness it. 

The goddess cried too. Her tears gave Akinori’s long line of female leaders their powers and strength. Tears would never be seen as weak in this valley. They’re an offering, a sacrifice. Love.

“Everything about you is hard, Tatsuki. I just…I need to hear it. To know it.” It might be too much to ask. Akinori never urged his people to show him love or affection. He garnered for it, taking his existence in stride. He’d laugh it off, take it easy. Bear the pain of wanting attention and never really getting as much as he craves. “At least from you.”

But Tatsuki wanted to be his husband. His person. His.

Tatsuki breathes out through his nose one, exasperation. 

“You ask so much…”

*

*

More fool he for wanting to give in. The tears make his heart tender. Tatsuki, driven to the point of no return, his toes already hanging over a cliff, doesn’t want Akinori to keep wondering. Falling into the heat and not caring about the burns he might get from it, Tatsuki admits what he feels for Akinori. The confessions come with kisses, placed on Akinori’s forehead which feels warm. His cheeks, which are warmer. His lips, which are unbearably hot. His throat, where the pulse was so wild that Tatsuki’s heart fears for the man below him. He places the kisses on the ears too, bearing what he feels out loud for them to hear it.

Really hear it.

“I want to take care of you. All those needs you have. And in return, it would be a gift and honour to be…to have you by my side. Always.” Tatsuki removes Akinori’s dress tunic and vest, kissing his way over the exposed chest. He follows the line of the shoulders first, to their outermost point. “I want to learn all there is to know, but I am in no rush…” Tatsuki brings his kisses slowly down, waiting for Akinori’s chest to fall first, then rising up to meet his mouth. Feeling that fast-beating heart, Tatsuki doesn’t know if he should focus on slowing that heart rate, or find it a compliment that it beats so fast for him.

“I want you all to myself. To love you more than any other ever could.”

Below him, Akinori whimpers, unable to speak. Tatsuki brings his arms below him, hugging him close as his mouth kisses gently over the risen ribcage.

“I want to know you better than anyone could. To be known by you, as intimately as one can. I want to give you all that I have, even if it's just me that I can give away,” Tatsuki whispers, lowering his body to kiss every inch of Akinori’s warm skin. “I want this…I want you, Akinori. There’s nothing in this world or in this life that I have ever yearned for as much as you.”

Would it be enough? Tatsuki’s last kiss hovers above Akinori’s belly-button. His mouth was dry from so much speaking. When he glances up, he worries more and more. Akinori has his arm over his eyes. He’s still shaking, but Tatsuki hopes his words were received well nonetheless. They came from the heart. He lifts himself up on his elbows.

“Was that…Do you…” he doesn’t know what to ask. He doesn’t want to make it worse by saying too much. But was it cheesy? Was this what Akinori needed to hear to understand? The shakes beneath him become harder and more violent. Tatsuki watches Akinori’s mouth stretch from side to side. He lifts the arm himself, needing to see and know. When Akinori is still crying, Tatsuki’s heart sinks. He messed it up. Perhaps Akinori, like him, was so starved for attention, so much lesser in the eyes of the people around him, that he needed something more to be told. Tatsuki searches for words, not sure what would make a difference—

“Hmm? Was that what? Alright for me, enough for me? Do I what? Accept your words, delight at them? Why, Tatsuki…is my body language that hard to read?” Akinori smiles. Tatsuki doesn’t see it—unable to take his eyes off those teasing, wet-glimmering eyes—but he hears how heels dig into the bed. How Akinori pushes himself down, and over Tatsuki’s thighs. How he sits himself tightly onto Tatsuki’s lap. Akinori’s hands make their way once more to Tatsuki’s face, who catches the wrists and puts them down. He brings all his body strength up into his shoulders, into his torso, to press that gleaming, teasing, little bastard into the bed. Akinori cannot stop smiling, his tears finally stopping. Tatsuki doesn’t feel anger however. He presses back into that heat, watching Akinori bite his lower lip.

“I’m going to make you pay for that,” Tatsuki says, descending down to give Akinori a kiss that will sear that smile.

“Oh, I hope so. For the rest of our lifetimes, yes?” Akinori whispers as Tatsuki kisses him. Harder this time, with more teeth than tongue. Their hands take their time disrobing each other. Akinori uses his feet to get rid of Tatsuki’s pants. Tatsuki can hardly think of how to get them off, or Akinori’s hand is already between his legs. He sinks his head beside Akinori’s, controlling his breathing. Akinori’s palm presses against the vein on his cock, fingers tip-tap dancing at the base.

“Ah-ah-ah, I need to hear you, remember? No more hiding.”

Breathing in, Tatsuki wets his fingers, then gives Akinori a piece of his mind. Akinori doesn’t scare away from him; Tatsuki’s fingers rub twice over his entrance, then think better of it. Tatsuki mimics Akinori’s hand instead; it’s better to fight fire with fire anyway.

“Kiss me you big brute. I don’t want the rest of the castle to hear us,” Akinori says, and Tatsuki gladly follows that command. Would follow any wish spoken from that mouth. Their hands take hold of one another, bringing their lengths close together for that extra friction. Tatsuki thinks he could lose his mind at the pure sensation of Akinori’s heat running over him so intimately. The kiss becomes more tongue than bite this time, sloppy almost as they also have to breathe.

Tatsuki brings his arm under Akinori’s shoulders, delighted when Akinori’s arm hugs his neck close. He feels lashes flutter against his cheeks, which must be red from their engagement and the crying. Tatsuki breathes out, tongue twisting around Akinori’s. He presses his hips down, bringing the bases of their cocks together as their hands work between them.

“Akinori…I don’t want to go all the way…But I am also afraid I won’t know how to say no to myself if we continue…” Tatsuki whispers, taking this vocally honest thing seriously. Akinori laughs; that hot, sexy laugh that tempts him to never stop. Akinori pats his bare shoulder, watching as Tatsuki puts their forehead together. Opening one eye, Tatsuki looks at Akinori, then down between them. They’re already painting Akinori’s quivering stomach with their precum. It’s nigh impossible to not indulge more, but Tatsuki manages to restrain his immediate needs.

Of course, that’s when Akinori has to speak.

“I wouldn’t mind feeling you inside of me, Tatsuki,” Akinori says, clearly taking pleasure in watching Tatsuki squirm. “But…I honour your customs and wishes.” And still, Akinori’s legs close around Tatsuki, bringing him close one more time. “If you can’t lie beside me and behave…best to go into the bath chamber. I will try and muffle myself when I come, thinking of you.” 

Tatsuki stares him down. Akinori really is too much. Tatsuki kisses him one more time, pressing him hard into the bed. He’s off in one push, gathering his clothes and disappearing into the nearby bathroom. He closes the door behind him, leans his back into the wood as his head thumps harder against it. Taking care of himself, he can be quick…and yet he listens to hear Akinori not actively trying to mute himself at all. Akinori’s little sighs and gentle laughter-moans nearly draw Tatsuki to finish him himself. 

But he’s a man of his word, forged by customs. Tatsuki stays where he is, takes care of himself and cleans up after. When he comes out completely dressed, he finds Akinori spent and spread on his bed. Head high, Tatsuki walks to the end of the bed, staring Akinori down. He pulls a blanket over him. Akinori pokes his tongue out, and Tatsuki rounds the bed. His clean, cool hand wipes Akinori’s hair aside. He presses another kiss on the forehead. Stays there, as Akinori’s hand brushes his neck once more.

“You know, I gave it some thought. I _think_ that first kiss could be seen as beginner’s luck. After all, I’m never perfect at just one thing, and you practically tackled me twice within 24 hours. I must insist that we need a few more tryouts.” The way Akinori looks at him, _all of him_ should be forbidden. “Meet me before dinner, at the goddess statue where I recited your house’s hymn. Oh, and don’t wear any underwear. Surely you can show more…restraint if I’m not lying wanton and willing on a bed, ready to be ravaged.”

Tatsuki’s face becomes hard. He hears his joints crack as he leans over Akinori’s body. It’s impossible to keep his body at bay when Akinori’s nails dig into his neck. He lies down over Akinori’s more or less covered chest, kissing him with all the sensuality Tatsuki can muster. His hand goes down again, touching Akinori’s now semi-hard dick through the blanket.

“In my house we say, ‘Between a rock and a hard place’. Given our diplomatic bond and in the goodwill of teaching you our ways, I will make you understand that saying in earnest, Prince Fox.”

The nails release Tatsuki’s neck, having left their half-moon marks there. Without watching it fall, Tatsuki hears the defeated hand slump into the bed. Akinori sighs onto his lips, all heat bottled up in a storm. The eyes portray it best; want of it now, the will to wait for it and have it be more fun.

“Can’t wait…”

*

*

Kissing Tatsuki is addictive. Akinori cannot refrain himself from pulling him into dark corners, even in daylight. After the statue, where Tatsuki’s hands had gone naughtily down the back of his pants to squeeze Akinori’s ass, there was the banquet where they’d played around under the table, faking pleasant table manners and talk (Akinori talking to hide his moans more than Tatsuki). And soon, Akinori found out that he could push and extend Tatsuki’s boundaries. Slowly, with every secret kiss, their hands get to know each other more and more. It becomes a game to not just make each other hard, but also get each other off. Tatsuki stays reluctant to take off all the clothes, as it would definitely tempt him too much…but Akinori doesn’t mind showing skin and teasing Tatsuki into the next boundary-pushing excitement.

And he has to get his revenge after breakfast. Sitting across from each other, Tatsuki’s face betrays nothing. Meanwhile, Akinori had his hand on the man’s foot, making sure he doesn’t rub him too fast while their servants put down the breakfast things. After the banquet the night before, Akinori had gotten the bright idea to request the showing of their more expensive and luxurious tablecloths. They were near draperies that pool on the floor. Perfect for hiding anything below. No one minded the increase in private moments they were taking for themselves.

He couldn’t believe how Tatsuki was eating and drinking tea, nodding to whatever question a servant fired his way, while his foot was rubbing Akinori senseless. Not to the point of coming though. That was one boundary they hadn’t crossed in the past 20 hours—especially due to an encounter yesterday where Tatsuki had been kissing and jerking off Akinori in a corner. Akinori’s moans had echoed and travelled up to freak out Barkbeak. It hadn’t stopped Tatsuki from continuing though, albeit his hand had covered Akinori’s mouth.

Akinori didn’t eat much at breakfast, remembering the feel of Tatsuki’s penis hard at his hip while he jerked Akinori off. Too busy hiding the shaking sensation rushing over his spine, and had to close his eyes more than once to not show the eye rolling when Tatsuki’s heel dug in just right. The servants thought him faint again, and it was Tatsuki who had to tell them Akinori was just tired. 

Absent were their personal attendants. Akinori firmly believed that Suna and Yamato had caught one whiff of what was going on, and must have told their friends as well. Whenever Akinori and Tatsuki were disappearing, they would stand guard... At the furthest possible corners.

They do it after breakfast too, re-emerging from wherever they were hiding. Never following too closely however, as Akinori is already planning his next move.

Finding himself alone in a corridor, Tatsuki looks around. Akinori waltzes forward, throwing himself with ease against a man who always catches him. The corridor here was between today’s breakfast room and one of the smaller gardens. Vines and flowers hung in and between alcoves. Without having to check if the coast is clear, trusting Haruki and Yamato with his honour and life, Akinori pushes Tatsuki backwards.

Well, he is trying. Tatsuki doesn’t move, and it was quite the workout for Akinori to get him to take one step backwards. Rolling his eyes, Akinori instead jumps up at him. Shame is for the past. Tatsuki catches him, hands on the ass when he does.

“You’re really testing my patience today,” Tatsuki says, kissing down to Akinori's throat.

“You're one to talk…It’s unfair, you know. My legs aren’t as long as yours,” Akinori pouts, alluding to earlier. He feels Tatsuki smile against his skin. Smug bastard.

“I am well aware,” he says, biting away at the skin, making Akinori cry out instead of complaining. “Learning your body and receiving advantages really pleases me. And I do love seeing your face twist and relax from the pleasures of my hand. Or foot.”

Akinori bites the top of Tatsuki’s ear in revenge. Instead of coming up with a smart remark, his tongue licks inside Tatsuki’s ear. The moan that follows is deep and lustful. It would make Akinori’s knees weak, if he wasn’t holding on to Tatsuki’s waist with his thighs. But it does the trick; the giant takes several steps back.

“I do remember something about...my wish is your command? Sit down,” Akinori instructs, happy when his plan continues on as intended. Tatsuki’s eyes do not leave him as his back finds the wall behind him, sliding down. Akinori’s feet soon make contact with the floor again, only to shift around so he can hover his ass over Tatsuki’s lap. Hands on Tatsuki’s shoulders, Akinori kisses him deeply. One hand goes through that perfectly styled hair.

“Mhnn, you should let me sit on top of you more often…I could definitely get used to it.” 

Tatsuki kisses his chin, his jaw. He makes Akinori sigh, licking his throat.

“We are in agreement then…I like the view of you like this,” Tatsuki whispers hotly, the rest of his body not moving.

“Daww, Tatsuki…that could almost sway me to stay here then,” Akinori smiles, pushing at Tatsuki’s shoulders. As soon as he puts pressure there, Tatsuki’s mouth is off him. It makes Akinori realize that perhaps here is a little too open for what he has in mind. He stands up, gesturing for Tatsuki to follow. They steal into one room filled with tables and chairs. They’re different in designs, and Akinori pulls Tatsuki along on the search to find a plush velvety one for Tatsuki to sink into. And Tatsuki sits down readily.

Akinori’s hands lean onto the thighs, using them to steady himself as he kneels. He widens Tatsuki’s knees, who notices way too late that he’s being entrapped. Opening the pants, Akinori listens avidly for any sort of protest though. If Tatsuki says no, it’s no. Checking his facial expression to be on the safe side, he wasn’t quite ready to see the wide-eyed expression. While the upper body seems to freeze, Akinori clearly sees Tatsuki harden—he had taken the clue to go underwearless once as going underwearless always. Akinori will make sure to change the expression to pure enjoyment. Hungry to see more of that all-consuming lust for him, Akinori removes Tatsuki’s pants, then focuses on the erection. He licks his lips, close enough for the dick in his hands to feel it too. 

“I’ll make you love this view too, no worries.”

“Aki—” is all Tatsuki gets out; Akinori’s mouth closes over him at once, tongue carefully licking over the glans. He has to hold Tatsuki’s thighs down, stop him from moving. Tatsuki bends over him, hands in his hair. He gasps out slowly, then breathes in once more, voice caught between want and something else. “Unblooming flowers, Akinori…”

Akinori moves himself fluidly down the hard cock in his mouth, swallowing with it the remark how something here is definitely in full bloom. He slurps it up, hollows his cheek. Every tremble under his hands, each of Tatsuki’s deep in- and exhales turn him on more, making him take Tatsuki deeper. He furrows his brows as he’s close to the base…Tatsuki is so thick, his penis heavy on Akinori’s tongue. Opening his eyes, Akinori watches as Tatsuki leans back into the chair, his own eyes nearly closed. There’s a glimmer in the slits, overpowered lust taking him down. Akinori breathes in, takes him deeper, feeling Tatsuki contract. The penis throbs and Akinori licks the entire underside when he retreats his head and mouth. Working Tatsuki with two hands while just licking the glans, speeding up the circles he draws with his tongue.

“Yeah, feel good?” Akinori asks. Tatsuki doesn’t open his eyes, barely nods. But he nods all the same. “Good,” Akinori says. He slaps Tatsuki’s glans against his tongue, letting precum sputter out on top. “No one is gonna hear you here…and I will be very turned on by each sound you make.”

“Akinori,” Tatsuki says, groaning a deep sigh. 

“Like that, Tatsu…exactly like that…” Akinori says, taking Tatsuki’s hefty length back into his mouth. He places Tatsuki’s hands onto his head. No more instructions. Tatsuki would be free to push and pull him. Akinori wouldn’t mind letting him stand, but figures it's safer for them both that Tatsuki is seated. Akinori resumes giving him head, liking Tatsuki's fingers in his hair. He pulls a little, never too hard. He pushes Akinori down, syncing up with the already fluid movement.

When he’s about to come, Tatsuki warns him. He says Akinori’s name over and over, as if it was the only word he knows. He says it faster and faster, pressing one hand where the velvet plush under his bare ass meets with the dark wood of the chair. Akinori looks up, not stopping sucking Tatsuki off. At the end, Tatsuki opens his eyes, only to shut them tight again when he comes. He bites his bottom lip, exhales through the nose. When his seed runs down inside of Akinori’s throat, he breathes out heavily, groans out Akinori’s name as if in a curse.

Akinori holds the penis up, licking it clean. Smiling all the way.

He isn’t prepared to feel those big hands under his jaw, pulling him up. Tatsuki kisses him, unafraid to taste himself all over Akinori’s tongue. His penis falls over his thigh, spent. Tatsuki eyes search Akinori for moments on end.

“No one…no one has ever done that to me…” Tatsuki says, and Akinori now understands the shock Tatsuki must have felt. Good…very nice. Akinori doesn’t mind that he was the first to show Tatsuki the otherworldly pleasures of giving him his mouth. Tatsuki’s thumbs run over Akinori’s cheek, his face softening to a smile. “If this is your form of revenge for nearly getting you off at breakfast…you won’t be ready for what I’m thinking up next for you, Akinori.”

Akinori’s smile deepens, and he would love to know right now. He bites and pulls Tatsuki’s bottom lip.

“Looking forward to it, Tatsuki.”

*

*

Every beginning of a kiss is like the first time. For less than a second, Tatsuki’s body becomes solid, frozen in place. His brain empties out of thought, his body feeling faint. He doesn’t feel his hands nor his feet. Barely feels the sweetest lips he’s ever known pressing into him. Unlike the first time, Tatsuki finds his composure quickly. He dips his head, touches Akinori’s face or holds him in place however he needs to. Akinori was a thunderstorm, a flood. He was so much that Tatsuki fears he could never be enough. Never give enough. 

Hearing Akinori hum into the kiss, that doubt loosens from his throat. His senses rush forward to that welcoming heat, wet between their mouths. Akinori might like kissing him in secret, with the threat of someone walking in on them always hanging in the air. But Tatsuki likes privacy a lot more. The soft murmur, their sounds muted within the coach. Thick wood and velvet plush all around them, and the windows darkened by the Tulip banner.

He becomes hard under Akinori’s minimal movement. Sitting on top, Akinori takes his time and sets the pace. If Tatsuki kisses him deeper or bites him, he might be persuaded to match him. Mostly, Tatsuki likes to do whatever the man above him pleases because it is pleasing in every way.

Bringing his hands further down, Tatsuki lets them round over the curve of Akinori’s ass. He doesn’t push him forward for friction. That’s not what they came here to do. Akinori has called it ‘dry-humping’, a word that made little sense to Tatsuki’s ears and sounded a bit crude for the sensualities they would do when they meet for kissing. It wasn’t as if that’s the sole thing they would do. They’d still meet up for other things; Akinori would orchestrate private dining, leaving off the wine as a dessert. He would take Tatsuki through the city. Tatsuki enjoys seeing it through Akinori’s eyes, hearing the history. Hiding in alleyways for a quick kiss and whispering sweetness into one another’s ears was just one of the many new perks.

Nibbling Akinori’s jawline from side to side, Tatsuki’s fingers work open the pants Akinori wears. He takes Akinori’s hands in his when he tries to do the same though. Tatsuki removes the garment, leaving him in nothing but a wide, sandy coloured tunic he’s wearing. It falls low over his ass, which turns Tatsuki on all the more. Leaning back, he watches Akinori as he fingers him. That face was a sight to behold. 

“You know, there’s a way I could come from this,” Akinori whispers, eyes closed. Tatsuki is aware, but that’s not why he’s seduced Akinori into this carriage. With his lover in his lap, Tatsuki gets up to sit him down. Akinori doesn’t look surprised, still expectant to what Tatsuki is planning. Like Akinori did a couple of days ago, Tatsuki goes down on his knees. He kisses Akinori’s thighs, running his tongue over the inside. Up to the knees which he holds at the outer-sides, his tongue goes down lower each time. Akinori spreads himself for him, humming pleasure over his lips. Steadying himself, Tatsuki curls his hands around Akinori’s knees, looking up at him. It was still hard to explain when he felt himself lacking. 

But they promised one another honesty, to know all there was to know, what they wanted to know. Tatsuki cannot run away from his own words. He slows his breathing, encourages himself to believe that Akinori might react a certain way, but not so that it would hurt him.

“I didn’t tell you before but…in my realm, it is quite uncommon for a man to…take someone else’s penis into their mouths. Women don’t do it, either. I’ve technically only heard of the existence of the practice.”

He was prepared for the way Akinori’s face changes. Yet another difference to add to the long list of many.

“O-oh, so that’s why you…never had the pleasure of receiving mouth huh…I see.” Akinori looks down between them, biting his lip. He then runs his hand under Tatsuki’s jaw. “You know…if you have zero experience…you don’t have to do that to me. We can take it slow…or if you do not want to do that ever—”

“That’s not it. I definitely want to learn how to…’give mouth’? Is that the expression?” Tatsuki asks, continuing as Akinori nods. “I’m looking forward to learning each and every way to make you say my name, moaning or crying it out,” Tatsuki says, smiling when Akinori blushes. “However…that is for another day or night.”

Crooking an eyebrow, Akinori glances down to his penis, then stares back at Tatsuki. “Then…what did you go all the way down to your knees for?”

By way of answering, Tatsuki’s hands lift Akinori’s knees up higher than before. He places them over his shoulders, shuffling forward. “In my realm…especially men…they please each other differently. I asked you beforehand to thoroughly clean yourself,” Tatsuki says, bringing his mouth between Akinori’s legs. He teases the inner thighs once more, staying clear from Akinori’s dick and balls. Unable to say it, Tatsuki brings his mouth closer to Akinori’s entrance. He’s entrapped in thighs the very next moment, stopped from moving forward.

“H-h-h-h-h-hold on a moment? Soooo, giving mouth is a novelty to you, but kissing m-my uh, my,” Akinori stammers, pointing his finger down. Tatsuki’s cheeks are too trapped to speak, so he pushes Akinori’s legs apart, to first nod and then reply. 

“You can sit on my face if you like. It’s what we call it, well there’s two names…’Face-sitting’ and ‘rim-kissing’,” Tatsuki says, staying calm while a whole new world opens up in front of Akinori. He shields his mouth, head shaking. Maybe it was too much to handle. Akinori’s character doesn’t admit defeat easily. 

“I cannot be charged with…controlling any of that. I have no idea how…” Akinori says, glancing down at himself, to Tatsuki, up to the ceiling of the carriage. “My my, who could have known we’d still have such surprises for each other. I…I have no idea how I will react…” Akinori warns, toes already curling over Tatsuki’s back. “You might have to…restrain me. Harshly. I don’t mind bruises!” Akinori adds, blushing harder. Tatsuki nods, putting his hands right under Akinori’s knees’ soft sides. He presses them up further, making space for his mouth to work on his lover.

Akinori sinks into the soft plush, hands holding on for dear life. He speaks a prayer, Tatsuki hears, whose head dips down low once more. Before he goes right for the bulls-eye, he licks every inch around Akinori’s entrance. The trembling…he can’t wait for it to become so uncontrollable. Holding tight to Akinori’s legs, Tatsuki’s tongue licks over the entrance, rubs the flatness of his tongue all over it.

“Aaaahhwww,” Akinori squirms, his ass opening and closing. Tatsuki leans back to blow air on it, enjoying how much Akinori reacts to this first touch already. He’s so sensitive…this was truly a good revenge for the unknown thing done to Tatsuki’s penis. Sitting comfortably, Tatsuki closes his eyes. His tongue swirls around Akinori’s little asshole, careful with his tip. The sounds Akinori makes aren’t just music to his ears; it’s all he’s ever wanted to hear. Akinori is fearless when it comes to being loud. The way he’s vocal makes Tatsuki’s dick harden under his pants. But he won’t touch himself. All his focus is on Akinori, and when Tatsuki’s tongue dips in, his shoulders tense with it. Akinori is a dream come true, his trembling more than welcome. Tatsuki presses him further into the seat with his hands. His jaw slacks as he kisses Akinori’s ass deeply. His nose sniffs in the sweet smell of cleanliness, of sweat, of want. Akinori’s scent is addictive, and it’s so different from anything Tatsuki has ever known. 

He’d give this man the world.

Tatsuki moans throughout the deep kiss, letting his tongue go wilder now that Akinori is used to this new sensation. 

“Ahhww…Haaaw, Tatsuki…goddess, that feels so…ohhhh,” Akinori mewls, and Tatsuki hears him bang his head backwards. It’s so tempting to get up and claim him…but Tatsuki only allows to make this mark. To let Akinori know he’d go all out for him. He doesn’t want to stop licking Akinori until he comes. It was true that fingers were easier, as they could go deeper and truly massage a good spot. But Tatsuki wants him to come like this…It might take longer, but it will be all the more worthwhile.

Tatsuki is happy to notice that Akinori doesn’t touch himself. As a reward, Tatsuki drops one of the knees off his shoulder. His hand then goes to tease Akinori’s nipple, something his lover and possible future-partner had shown him the other day. They hadn’t explored it a lot, but Akinori’s mouth closed around Tatsuki’s nipple once; he thought he’d die all over again, just when Akinori’s mouth closed around his penis. Careful not to pinch or twist, Tatsuki’s fingers make both of Akinori’s nipples hard. The moans that follow become all the more high-pitched, and the Chrysanthemum way of cursing flows readily from Akinori’s mouth, before his words become indecipherable moans. Then there is just Tatsuki’s name, and even that gets distorted as pleasure overtake Akinori.

“Taaaatsuuuu…Please…” Akinori’s hand comes down on Tatsuki’s head. He clearly tries to get rid of Tatsuki’s shirt; but the positioning is not in his favour, and Tatsuki’s tongue makes it all the more harder for Akinori to concentrate on anything else.

Tatsuki comes up to breathe, then removes his own shirt for Akinori’s sake. But the hunger in him hasn’t died down one bit, so he turns to sit down with his shoulders to the side where Akinori is sitting with his legs up. 

He looks up to see Akinori’s surprise become eagerness, and they rearrange so that Akinori can sit on Tatsuki’s face and pace himself however he needs it. Tatsuki holds on to his thighs, liking the weight of Akinori’s arms, when his palms press down to his chest. Akinori’s moans continue to whine, interrupted by sharp exhales. He sometimes presses his teeth into his bottom lip; a sight Tatsuki can’t see, but his ears have accustomed to the sound of it. Fingers run over his chest, caressing him. Closing his eyes, Tatsuki loses himself in giving pleasure, in Akinori’s warmth and minimal movements. When Akinori becomes completely silent, Tatsuki uses his hand to aid the orgasm. Akinori breathes out heavily after. 

Then the little fox tries to repay the favour. Tatsuki lets him go as far as opening his pants, but then he stops him. In a swift move, agile through combat training, Tatsuki maneuvers Akinori, who barely has time to gasp. One topless, one bottomless, they sit down next to one another. Akinori is rightfully pink in the face, a little out of breath. Blond hair sticks to his forehead. Tatsuki pushes it away. He then has to lean back when Akinori tries to kiss him.

“Uh, not good?” Akinori laughs, and Tatsuki shakes his head. He barely dares to open his mouth. Akinori hits him on the arm. “You told me to clean up and everything, it’s fine!?” But Tatsuki keeps shaking his head. Akinori rolls his eyes. “Bloody petals, alright.”

Tatsuki doesn’t lean away when Akinori puts his head on his shoulder. “That was…wow. I never knew you could do something like that.”

“What you did wasn’t half bad either, I enjoyed that a lot…It feels even better, I think,” Tatsuki replies, head a little back when Akinori looks up to him with a grin. Akinori could be quite unpredictable. Rasping his throat, Tatsuki asks, “You aren’t…opposed to me having experience in that matter..?”

“No, why should I be? I’m not innocent and untouched either. Plus, I think it’s better to have experience than to be thrown together into a bed and no one has a clue,” Akinori sighs, stretching his arms forward. He snuggles closer up to Tatsuki’s arm. “And it’s not like there will be an end to our discoveries any time soon. With our differences…there’s more than just one world to explore.”

Tatsuki leans his head against Akinori’s, silently agreeing. They hold hands, neither in a hurry to get dressed or return to the palace. Sighing, Tatsuki closes his eyes. He presses Akinori’s warm hand, then says his piece. It hadn’t been a topic they had to talk about, but with them slowly coming to terms that they will stay together, Tatsuki has one important thing left to discuss.

“Akinori…I have a request. With…sex; If you’re still fine with it, I want to wait until the wedding night. It’s the way it’s done in my country. Anything else, we can keep doing that.” He gulps, not wanting to see Akinori’s expression. Perhaps he’d be disappointed, or simply demand to know..?

“Mhnnn, no complaints here. I wouldn’t have minded not waiting but, if that’s how you prefer it,” Akinori says, pressing his fingertips into Tatsuki’s skin. 

“I vow to you…I’ll be gentle. And give you anything you need.”

Akinori laughs a little at that, shaking Tatsuki’s head along with it. “Oh, I am sure we will have a lot of fun together.”

Then the trickster steals a kiss after all, prompting Tatsuki to revenge bite him in the neck. He doesn’t stop even as Akinori’s squeals and laughs, rocking the carriage as they wrestle. The sound of laughter, this warmth, the sweetness…this man; Tatsuki was happy he’d be able to keep him, to be staying with him for the rest of their lives.

*

*

Standing in front of his entire family with something important to say has Akinori feeling a little winded. Even as he shows a triumphant smile and has sent a wink to his sisters, he waits for his mother to look up from her paperwork. Matters of state were not always concerning every single daughter of Queen Konoha, but today she had them look over a few papers. As the last one is handed back from Fuyuko, Akinori’s mother looks up to him with expectant eyes. She has her fingers loosely together in a X, elbows on the table. All eyes are on him now.

It comes out with ease. His mother nods serenely, while to her right, Akinori’s father beams at him proudly.

A few seconds of silence pass, and then his sisters scream as one. Shikika is the first past their mother’s work desk, her arms around his neck as she yells into his ear. Haruka jumps over the desk, her strong arms slip around his waist, crushing him. They make space for the other siblings to hug him from each side. There’s no rhyme or reason to their excited words, only high pitched noises, hugs and clasps on his back. Shikika kisses the top of his head, and as one being, they rush from their mother’s office where she conducts all her business. Words find them at last when they’re out of the door, and Akinori turns to listen to them preparing his wedding already. 

He sputters a bit watching them leave, their sounds reaching throughout the hallway. Sighing because they can’t be helped, he looks back to his mother. She stands up, rounding her desk too.

“Let them arrange everything. They’ve been quietly discussing colours and floral arrangements for days already. You naturally wouldn’t have heard or noticed.” His mother stands before him, and Akinori’s heart fills with accomplishment. He did something, and all it took was being himself. “Akinori, my son…I am so happy that words wouldn’t do it justice. I need you to understand that I am not just proud to be your mother, for what this could mean for our queendom. But to see you happy and settled, that is truly the greatest gift any child of mine could give me.”

Akinori’s heart contracts as he sees tears fill his mother’s eyes. She hugs him, making Akinori feel close to crying too. Happy tears only, as his father joins the embrace. Her voice doesn’t stutter once when she speaks down into his hair.

“May the goddess bless the union, years to come.”

His father adds, “Blessed be her name and yours, for fortunes beyond measures have entered our home.” He kisses Akinori’s head too, ruffling it a little. “Now son, let’s find the new addition to our family! Ah, I am so happy to welcome a second son.”

They hug Akinori one more time, who bursts from the love he feels from his family.

*

*

With their father practicing the bow and arrow, all the sons have lined up behind them. In their usual formation, going from oldest to youngest. Time passes, and when Tatsuki thinks he cannot hold another moment of peace, he steps forward. Watching his father release an arrow, he opens his mouth.

“I have a small announcement to make,” Tatsuki says, but his father doesn’t stop readying another arrow. Tatsuki watches it fly. “It concerns the Konoha house.” The arrow hits the third ring, making his father scoff. Another arrow readies right behind. Tatsuki breathes out before his father loosened it. “Akinori agrees to our…my proposal. We agreed to the marriage and union of our flower houses.”

The arrow strikes bullseye. With his brothers at his back, Tatsuki cannot sense their reactions. He only looks at the back of his father. Barkbeak lands on his shoulder, nuzzling Tatsuki with his golden beak. He strokes the bird. Momentarily distracted, he doesn’t notice his father’s approach right away. A heavy hand lands on Tatsuki’s other shoulder. Tatsuki has to bow to bring their foreheads together, when his father prompts him.

“You make me very proud, Tatsuki. Alas, even as this is most prosperous…you are my blood. I will miss you dearly.”

Tatsuki doesn’t see the words coming, nor how it makes him feel. He’s speechless. His father clasps his shoulders hard one more time. Barkbeak remains on his shoulder, even when all his brothers come to congratulate him. Prince Tetsuya’s eyes fill with moisture, which he doesn’t hide.

“Tanosuke, ready a letter. Let our mother know. She surely would want to oversee the wedding preparations and see to it that our traditions are interwoven with those of this great nation,” Tetsuya the prince says, and Tanosuke is the first to leave. Remaining where he stands after his first words, Tatsuki hears an entourage approach. Queen Konoha, who has always seemed so composed and serene, hugs him tightly. She doesn’t even look at King Tetsuya, who shakes hands with Akinori’s father.

“I am looking most forward to having you as my son-in-law, Tatsuki,” she looks at him, shaking his head. “We do not give titles to the boys but…You will be our blessed second son.”

Second. In this nation, it wasn’t bad. And in this nation, he’d be different always. Still, Tatsuki wouldn’t want to have it any other way. King Konoha hugs him too, welcoming him already into the family. He doesn’t really hear some of the wedding talk, apart from the cooperation between the Konoha daughters and Tatsuki’s mother.

He knows that his family will leave soon to prepare everything. Tatsuki’s heart breaks a little, thinking how he will leave his home and move into the white palace. 

*

*

The next morning after breakfast, Akinori waits for the couple of hours that the Washio household needs to have internal final preparations done before they leave. Impatient, he walks to Tatsuki’s guest room, where Suna and Komori are waiting. They are talking to each other, standing idle. When they see him approach, their spines straighten. Standing shoulder to shoulder, they put their fist above the heart, bow their heads, and greet him as one man.

“Exalted prince Konoha,” they say, eyes to the ground. Surprised at the behaviour, never having seen it displayed like this, Akinori holds his hands up.

“Hey hey, there’s no need for that! You can call me Akinori, you know…I’m sure I have mentioned this before,” he says, remembering those first days when he was considered special by the two of them for being the only son. Happy when Haruki and Yamato catch up to him, Akinori continues “I was looking for Tatsuki. But finding you two is great too.” Akinori holds his hand up, palm to the ceiling to present his friends. “Komi and Saru here will make sure that your new quarters will be as you wish. Don’t be shy to ask for anything!”

Komori blinks in surprise, while Suna looks from Akinori to the other two.

“Could I request…less bright rooms? All that white makes my eyes hurt…” They laugh along, and Komori scratches his chin.

“So, we don’t stay in the other quarters?”

Haruki has his hands on his hips, equally excited like Akinori to be in charge and having more of a say for once. “Naturally not! We all have to move. Stay in the palace, but the married people in our line move to another wing, especially for them.”

“Even sons get the luxury. The great-great-grandmother of our current queen made it so,” Yamato explains. “Akinori and Tatsuki will get a new larger room, and we,” he points between himself and Haruki to Komori and Suna, “will occupy the rooms on either side.

Akinori zones out as the four of them talk about the logistics, the differences in duties, the similarities. He looks around, wondering where Tatsuki is. When he sees him come from the opposite hallway, Akinori smiles and waves. He stops doing that when he sees the now-unusually grave expression on Tatsuki’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O:  
> :O  
> Oho trouble in paradise???


	6. The flourishing passage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before the wedding can start, Tatsuki has one final task.
> 
> As he's gone, Akinori readies one more surprise, with the help of Tatsuki's mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baby it's wedding time (ღ˘⌣˘ღ) I went all-out in this chapter (as if I don't always www)  
> One of the tags I wanted to add but didn't because I want to keep them clean was 'walk walk fashion baby' because writing the clothing was one of my fave things. I sometime thing I could have done more, but that was my feeling throughout the fic!
> 
> Also realized in this chapter the difference how Tatsuki and Akinori call the other queens and tbh? Let's put it to their characterzation okay~

A deep sigh gathers from his ribcage to be released through his nose. Tatsuki has been sitting in a large bright room made available for the meeting of the Tulip house, family only. His father holds court over his sons, after the advisors had been refused inclusion in the marriage preparation. A marriage of any royal house would take up a lot of time. Since the last Petal War, it is an uncommon occurrence for two lower houses to join together. Apart from the political and economical means, there is just so much to do. Queen Konoha had been firm on her decision to not let advisors or any non-royal part of their houses interfere with the marriage. Here it was a strictly royal privilege to conduct those. King Tetsuya understood the customs of this realm well. It was decided that Queen Washio, Tatsuki’s mother, would help prepare the ceremony.

Queen Konoha’s words have caused Tatsuki to hide a smile when her words rang through this morning’s breakfast room, after the announcement of marriage. 

_’No normal man will meddle. It is not a ‘woman’s’ business, I believe. But I am sure you can understand best that only the highest of your house would be worthy to tell us what to do. And in our country…that is just not a man’s position.’_

Tatsuki knows this and accepts that the preparations would take time. But he has something he has to do as well. He listens to his father, nodding along the entire time. Full of respect, Tatsuki waits for all his older brothers to say their pieces. They talk about letters to send, marriage gifts to Akinori and his family. When it comes to Tatsuki, his father wants him to stay here alone and to get used to the life he will have. Tatsuki stops nodding. He clears his throat, then looks at his father.

“I politely request to return with you, one last time,” he says, watching everyone’s eyes turn to him. King Tetsuya remains silent, while Prince Tetsuya rubs his chin. Komori, always the one to brighten up the room and the conversation, nudges Tatsuki’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about your stuff. I will pack it all neatly! It will look stoic and cool, I promise.” Komori and Suna had drawn straws. The shorter end, Suna, would stay behind in the castle. At the mention of Tatsuki returning home, Suna perks up a little.

“It is not my worldly possessions I worry about…Father, would you deny me the attempt to let me find a proper wedding gift for my future husband?” Tatsuki says, feeling the temperature in the room drop. Silence was their cloak, and they wore it well. This was different. It might be custom for any son of the Washio household to try and hunt the greatest gift. But it’s never been done to be given to another man. King Tetsuya bows his head in solemn thought, then looks up with a smile. 

“The dark blue tulip will be of no use for prince Akinori. You’re meaning to tell me you want to hunt for the even rarer, more dangerously begotten pure white tulip of our mountains?” his father says, not once shaking his head. “You do not need permission for that, Tatsuki. Just be aware that your own death might be found on top of our highest peaks.”

Suna nudges Tatsuki’s shoulder. “Tatsuki cannot die before his wedding. He needs both of us to keep him safe.” Other attendants of the younger sons stifle their laughter. Suna would rather go help Tatsuki in this dangerous task, then stay here by himself. Komori bows towards their king.

“Let us go with him. We will make sure that all of him stays intact.”

“Very well, my youngest son will see the mountains one more time, but unlike any time before. Komori, Suna, go ahead and ready his journey back. Only pack the essentials,” the king says, and Tatsuki’s men bow low to him before they leave. Komori whispers that they will wait for him in front of his room.

The space soon clears out as everyone has to prepare their leave. By a single gesture of his father’s chin, Tatsuki and Tetsuya stay seated. King Tetsuya sighs out deeply, then looks Tatsuki in the eye.

“Only 4 to 5 white tulips sprout within 500 years, atop our highest and most perilous peaks. Be aware that during this time, they might have wilted, or become yellow. Their longevity might outlast a 100 red tulips, but it’s not written in stone if any are there for you to find. Of course it cannot be anything less than perfect. Just make sure to not continue searching for a 6th tulip in that case. You’d be lost up there forever. Our mountains are not kind, even to their own blood line. Does…Does Akinori know?”

Tatsuki shakes his head. The availability of even rarer and coloured tulips was a secret only within the most inner circle of the Washio clan. Attendants knew of it, as they would have to help whichever son wants to claim the most traditional and expensive gift for their future life-partners. The dark blue tulip has the special power to ease a woman’s pregnancy, and make the boys they birth strong and healthy for a lifetime. The white tulip, Tatsuki thinks, was not one that anyone in their great house has ever tried to get. But it was the only one that would matter. Tatsuki would take a red one as well, as it was a customary gift.

“When you find unsuitable white tulips, leave them be. Once seen by our house, even by the youngest son…they will soon die and make way for a new generation. It is the law of the rock,” Tatsuki’s brother says. “I will keep you in my thoughts, and hope that the first white tulip you find will be perfect in every way.”

The youngest son nods, then takes his leave. 

Walking back to his room, he doesn’t want to tell Akinori. But he couldn’t very well leave in the night or without saying goodbye. He feels his face turn cold when he sees his sweet prince, waiting and waving. Tatsuki doesn’t want to leave him so soon already. But the search for the tulip could take weeks…

Upon seeing Tatsuki, Motoya and Rintarou urge Akinori’s attendants to go someplace else. He nods to them in a silent thanks as they give him privacy.

“…What is it?” Akinori asks, his emotional sensitivities easily picking up Tatsuki’s mood. Pressing his hands under Akinori’s jaw, Tatsuki kisses him. It’s deep and sensual, an apology for what he’s about to do and say.

“My family will leave tonight for our own preparations. My mother will meet us halfway, then continue on to arrive in a couple of days’ time. I am sure she will like you…but I’m very much her son. You will understand when you meet her,” Tatsuki says, his heart in pain that he won’t be there to see it himself. Akinori’s brows furrow. 

“Wait…you’re leaving as well? But…I thought you would stay here!”

Tatsuki kisses him again, apologizing deeper. “There’s something I have to do. Our customs are different Aki, and I am sorry that I cannot tell you.” The pain he sees in Akinori’s eyes is a reflection of what he feels in his heart. “I do not want to leave either…I do hope to return sooner than the rest of my family. It’s not set in stone though…I might be gone for a very long time.”

Akinori’s face falls. “How long?”

“A few weeks. You have to promise me not to send Kyuuko with a letter. No matter how much I would like to read them, where I am going is not safe for her.”

It could be longer than they knew each other, maybe. No matter how fast Tatsuki would like to return, he needs to put his life and his friends’ safety first. Rushing to find and harvest the rarest tulip…his mountains do not act kindly upon those with greed in their hearts. They would hide the tulip with fog and rain, heavy snowfall covering them up. And white tulips were so much harder to find in the snow of the same colour.

“Alright,” Akinori says, looking downwards. Tatsuki wants to kiss that sadness away. “Are you sure you don’t want to…visit my bed before you leave?”

Tatsuki shakes his head. “I’d like nothing more…but I promise you; it will be worth the wait.”

Akinori arches an eyebrow. “You’re not going to hunt some fabled creature up in the mountains though?”

Laughing, Tatsuki kisses Akinori’s cheeks, his brows, his forehead. “Never again will I give you foodstuffs. Well…not made from animals, at least.”

“Washio Tatsuki, youngest son of your house, what are you up to?” Akinori demands, but no matter his kissing techniques or the pleading hands roaming Tatsuki’s shoulders and back, would he give up his intentions. No, he needs this to be a big surprise. Whatever Akinori didn’t have or would never experience as a son…he would be the first member in the long line of his family to receive such a special gift.

*

*

The sisters, a bunch of outfitters, and about 50 assistants run in and out of Akinori’s chambers. He’s nervous beyond belief, and just doesn’t have anything to wear. Outside in the corridor are basically a thousand racks with clothing, each of them useless. 

“No, this has red in it! It’s not my colour…” Akinori says, throwing another garment down on his overladen bed.

“Not yet!” Fuyuko tries to reassure him, while Haruka yells.

“Red perhaps not for you, but orange! Come on, you didn’t wear any orange during Tatsuki’s stay…”

He feels faint. He hadn’t cared as much about his clothes meeting Tatsuki, vanity assuring him he looks good in anything. But mothers are more critical. Queens above all...Akinori aims to please, but he doesn’t want to appear to be pandering to the incoming queen. She was hours away, and he wore nothing but undergarments. Sweat rolls off his back. The army of carriages and the entire male line from the Tulip house hasn’t made him feel like this! Oh, how he curses Tatsuki for leaving...then he quickly prays to the goddess that he and his friends are still safe.

“Not blue!” Shikika bellows, sending assistants away before they can even dare bring the inappropriate clothes inside. “Orange, something orange with a hint of red. Oh for Vixen’s almighty tails’ whipping— _not_ the chiffon! We want him to look regal, beautiful, and respectable.”

“Hey, I was respectable in chiffon!” Akinori interjects, but agrees all the same that he doesn’t feel like revealing skin when meeting Tatsuki’s mother. Akinori’s eyes widen, and he looks at his oldest sister. “Wait, what’s mom wearing? Couldn’t I for one day wear something resembling her a little?”

The flurry and fury rushes through the room, and the fastest outfitter is sent to check-in with their mother’s royal outfitters. Kyuuko hoots at him from the only safe space in his room, the window sill. “I’m sorry little KyuuKyuu...But hey, you look adorable with your pink little ribbons!” 

His pet owl had taken a liking to some pink strips of cloth. An idle assistant took the time to tie it around her legs. Akinori wishes he could send her to Tatsuki with a letter, but he’d told him not to.

While they wait for either his mother’s instructions, approval, or rejection, Akinori sits down on a chair—  
after dumping clothes occupying it onto the floor. He’s already exhausted. His sisters sit close to him wherever they find space, and then Natsuko claps her hands. 

“Oh, we forgot to ask—too busy arranging things—but you never told us how the actual proposal went!”

“Did he do it all romantic-like?” Fuyuko asks, eyes big.

“Or did you ask for his hand, like I would have?” Haruka grins, her elbows on her knees.

Akinori brings one bare leg over the other, feeling nonchalant and at ease with his sisters’ curiosity. He explains how he played hard to get, how he felt like Tatsuki’s emotional level wasn’t on par with his, how he needed it to be. There’s no shame in his voice, as even someone as tough as Haruka or as compassionate as Shikika understands his behaviour.

“And, well! Then we were kissing on my bed—first time, mind you—and he started to propose to me, but I didn’t let him finish. I just said yes,” Akinori laughs, but before his sister’s reactions explode, the outfitters return with gorgeous coloured fabrics and white base pieces.

“No time to lose, we will have to just sew this on him!”

“Now that that’s sorted...I need to fix my hair,” Haruka says, storming off. With nausea, Akinori realizes that he’s been sweating so much that his blond hair sticks to his scalp. 

“Send your people my way too!” Akinori yells after her, while Kyuuko hoots sweetly behind him. 

*

It is like when they welcomed the Washio men, except everything is less large and imposing. Akinori looks up to the ceiling, feeling a different kind of nervousness wrecking through him. Queens are more important here, and Queen Washio would receive the full nine-course welcome. Releasing a shuddering breath, Akinori cannot believe Tatsuki left him to meet Queen Washio alone. Standing beside his mother, Akinori was outside this time as the royal progression rode up the palace. The Washio men had left days ago, taking Tatsuki and his secrets with them.

“Relax. You’re worthy of her son,” his mother whispers. To her other side are all of Akinori’s sisters. They chose a uniform white, with chrysanthemum flower accents. Akinori was naturally the only one who didn’t have any accessories. He was holding a full bouquet of freshly picked flowers to be given to the other-landish queen.

The third carriage comes to a halt before them. Trumpets finish their song, and the angelic choir sings the last notes of ‘welcome sweet guest’. Akinori wonders how sweet Tatsuki’s mother would be.

Queen Washio steps out of the carriage, and as one, the line of Chrysanthemum bows to her. Queen Konoha merely inclines her head. Akinori watches with building apprehension and fear how Queen Washio comes straight for him. Her eyes are so much like a hawk. Akinori barely has time to appreciate the resemblance to her youngest son, as Queen Washio’s hand reaches out for his. He gives it, doing his best not to squirm when she squeezes hard. Believing this a test of strength, he squeezes tightly back.

She hardly smiles, but Akinori has gotten to know the smallest and most private of Tatsuki’s grins. It’s how he hopes he might have done well in the eyes of Tatsuki’s mother. And it is so clear to Akinori that the sons might resemble their father, but truly they have all inherited the severe stony eyes from their mother.

Remembering the weight in his arms, Akinori bows once more as he presents the bouquet.

“Very well,” Queen Washio says, taking the bouquet herself before an attendant can try. She smells them, and nods. “Very good indeed. ”

“It is so good to finally meet you. We were sad you couldn’t make it before,” Queen Konoha says, and the queens exchange private looks. Akinori watches, wondering what sort of thoughts must go through them both. Queen Konoha introduces all her daughters, as Queen Washio stays rooted to one place. She nods politely to all of them. Her gaze drifts to the orchestra and the choir, then to the wide open doors and the court waiting to welcome her in. She smiles once more, this time a little more shyly.

“Truly, my husband must have thought I’d outshine him here,” she says, then hooks her arm around Queen Konoha who gratefully accepts. The queens walk up the steps, and every living being bows to them deeply. Akinori releases another breath, then looks to his sisters. They’re beaming right at him. Then Shikika takes him by the arm, and leads him up.

“Your mother and your mother-in-law. What a sight to have two queens of such differences be united in such a gorgeous cause,” Shikika says, and Akinori can feel her pride and joy. He notices that Queen Washio doesn’t let go of her bouquet, even if her attendants whisper from behind Akinori to please let them carry it. An eagle resembling Barkbeak but bigger in build and with lighter coloured feathers flies down to sit on the queen’s shoulder, and squawks back at them to stay silent.

Inside, Queen Konoha conducts an entire tour. It’s clear that the long carriage ride means little to Queen Washio, who insists on seeing the history of Chrysanthensia in the art gallery her sons told her about. Shikika and Akinori follow along, adding little notes and pieces of knowledge whenever a pause allows for it. The queen tells her eagle by the name of Seawreck to not fly around too much.

“What a funny name,” Akinori hears his mother say, and then gets the history of Tatsuki’s mother’s earlier profession as a pirate-hunter.

“I met my husband on the seas. I loved his eagle, the way they communicated. He gave me Seawreck as an engagement gift, for her ability to rip through sails...She’s been my companion on the seas and in the mountains,” Queen Washio explains, looking back at Akinori. “I have heard that my son made you much the same gift. That made me very happy.”

Akinori nods, blushes. He couldn’t show off Kyuuko right now as she was asleep. She always comes to dinner though, and he promises his mother-in-law to show the owl later.

The day goes by in a breeze. Akinori feels well accepted by the other queen, even if she hasn’t said much in terms of approval of him. She doesn’t seem to tire easily, and appears most eager to learn the customs, rules and differences of the other royal line.

His mother also appears in higher and different spirits. Akinori sees it coming from a mile when they sit down for dinner; after the first tastings, the queens, his mother’s sisters, and all the daughters start discussing the wedding plans. Akinori wouldn’t mind not having any input at all; he knows what’s sort of expected from him. On the other hand…he would need to know the customs and rules of the Tulip line as well! 

What if he could surprise Tatsuki at the ceremony? It would be a promise…to not just love him and be a good husband. But to always respect where he came from and what he left behind; that Akinori would do his best to keep surprising him.

“The banners,” Queen Washio—whose first name is Musertia—starts after finishing her first course. “What would be the custom here when two houses join blood?”

The mention of blood has everyone but Haruka and the second oldest sister of the queen looking a little off. After all, Akinori and Tatsuki wouldn’t produce an heir together. Haruka doesn’t seem to understand it either, but she quickly tells Queen Washio the details. “Here, we will create one banner. It will bear the colours of our line and your house. The trimmings will be a mix of both. And the banner content will be a mixture of both as well. We were thinking of having our fox goddess hold one flower of our nation in each hand, one tulip, one chrysanthemum.” 

The cup would be absent, for the very reason the sons would never drink from it.

“Very interesting… How about if your goddess has her hands clasped around both of them, in the middle? We are joining together after all, and the boys will be together and not apart.” The suggestion is accepted immediately, and Queen Shichishoku’s personal attendant writes it down right away. “In addition, would it still be possible to have both our house banners besides it? Smaller versions perhaps…”

“Smaller versions next to is just delightful,” Queen Shichishoku says, as her personal attendant scribbles on. No one mentions to the Tulip queen how normally, their family is a ‘line’. No one contradicts a queen after all, even if she’s from another country.

When dinner is done and dessert has almost vanished from the table, Akinori excuses himself from the table full of women to approach Queen Washio as she makes to leave first. Her severe eyes don’t seem much warmer in the dim light, but that doesn’t scare Akinori off. He bows before her.

“Son, please stop that. No boy of mine will have to bow to me. My sons do try and get away with small inclines of their head however,” she winks, and Akinori feels loved and accepted all over. All the special treatment she receives might have warmed her up a little. Akinori inclines his head a little, feeling giddy at watching the queen’s smile spread. 

“Respected mother,” he says, but the queen holds her hand up.

“Just ‘mother’, is fine enough with me. Speak, son,” Queen Washio says, continuing to walk. Akinori tries to stay a step behind when he speaks, but she just slows down until he stops that too. Asking her what Tatsuki is up to might not be the best idea, but Akinori wants to know just what he needs to brace himself for.

“Ah, that. My youngest son will try to do something that within the last 9 generations, no one has ever tried. And he will do it for you, to bring you a gift unlike anything any of your predecessors or sisters have ever received. It will be a gift truly worthy to be given to a god. Or, in this country, a goddess.”

Akinori’s mouth opens a little. Those were grand expectations set in his heart right there. Whatever is being done hasn’t been tried for the last 9 generations…he puts his eyes skyward, offering a small prayer of gratitude to the goddess. She truly works in mysterious ways. From the wall he picks a single decorative flower, blowing its petals to an open archway in the corridor. He knows that it might look strange to the newcomers, but Queen Washio only nods. As if she understands. Tatsuki probably told her about that too. And Akinori feels giddy; Tatsuki might have told his mother a whole lot about him.

Falling in step beside her, Akinori hesitates with his next request. But the advisors of both royal families weren’t allowed to exchange advice between one another.

“Mother, if you’re not too tired…would you accept my humble presence and that of a cask of our best wine? I do have more questions about the ceremony, and the sooner I know the better,” Akinori says, guessing he’s overstepping given the late evening. But Queen Washio nods along.

“Very well. But only you may be present. I am sure you like to shock and surprise people, yes?” Akinori grins and nods. “Good, then please do come and join me. I am not the least bit tired yet. Oh, and if you would…please send a prayer for Tatsuki as well? I am sure he needs any kind of help he can get.”

That didn’t make Akinori feel better at all, but he would definitely pray to the goddess tonight. He was catching up on all the times he never asked for much himself—and Akinori grins when he thinks up how to tell the goddess how after all, the safe return of his future-husband would also mean prosperity to her lands, and to his mother’s ruling. Asking her to cast her eyes far over distant lands and watch over Tatsuki shouldn’t be too bad.

“Ah, I see what Tatsuki meant. When you grin, you really do look a little like a fox.”

Akinori blushes right away, saying ‘yes!’ and ‘thank you!’ flustered.

*

*

There was no prayer or sacrifice. At least, not from his brothers or fathers. Perhaps Akinori would have done something, if he knew what Tatsuki was up to. Or maybe he’s done a prayer nonetheless, for his swift and safe return. It could be one reason why Tatsuki finds his feet on even ground. Why Suna and Komori flank his sides, each of them unharmed and safe. They hadn’t tripped once, nor have they felt the effects of the high altitude. Tatsuki breathes in and out, letting the highest possible air fill his lungs.

True silence settles, as not even the wind blows. The air might be thin, but that’s not what is taking their breath. Three pairs of eyes focus on one point in the not too far distance. Tatsuki goes down to one knee, then the other. He presses his gloved hand to the top of the mountain. Closing his eyes, he brings his forehead down to the surface. That’s all he can give, his gratitude. His search of two weeks was over in a heartbeat. 

He approaches the pure white tulip, unswayed by the momentous moment. Like him, it stands tall and proud. Taller than the deep red flowers his country is famous for, the white tulip reaches to his thighs. Tatsuki falls once more to his knees, bringing his hands to where it’s green stem goes below the stone. At his front, Komori holds out a special bag, to keep the tulip safe from any harm. Suna holds out the cutters, steel curving low. Tatsuki takes them, says the rites. The only ones they have whenever they harvest the tulips. It reminds him of Akinori, and how he prayed for the boar and the other animals, thanking them for their life given away.

With Akinori in mind always, Tatsuki whispers his words to the top of the petals, changing away from the usual words. After all, his and Akinori’s bond would mingle and change to something completely new too.

“God of the mountain, Goddess of the valley. Please guide us safely through this life that we will share together,” Tatsuki says. The flower comes loose with one snap. It’s scentless, and its powers beyond measures. It is said that any living being could live for 200 years, after having eaten a soup made from the petals and pollen. The strength of an army. The wisdom of the earth, dating back thousands of years. Tatsuki looks at it, not needing the powers for himself. Perhaps Akinori wouldn’t even use the flower up, and just think it’s pretty. Tatsuki hopes Akinori would understand how special this is, and by extension, how special Akinori is to Tatsuki.

“I can’t believe it was this easy,” Suna says, looking to the tulip in reverence. “Whoever is watching over you truly favours you.”

Tatsuki smiles gently, seeing the banner of a fox goddess holding a cup. “Maybe so. Let’s go home. And then onwards to our new home.”

*

*

Barkbeak flies into the open archway. After he drops off a letter into Queen Washio’s hands, he steals some of her eggs right off the table, squawks at Seawreck affectionately, flaps his wings at Kyuuko encouragingly, then flies off. Queen Washio seems unbothered, slowly opening the letter. Then she gasps.

The entire table looks at her; in the short time that Akinori’s family has gotten to know Tatsuki’s mother, they had never heard an exclamation such as this from the other queen. Her eyes scan the small page in her hand. From where he sits, Akinori can guess that there’s not much scribbled. And yet, his mother-in-law rereads it over and over again. She has a hand over her mouth, and tears clearly glister in her eyes. More of the unusual.

Putting the page down on a clean place on the table, Queen Washio takes a deep breath before facing Queen Konoha.

“Queenly sister…we must make haste with our preparations. My youngest son will return soon.”

Akinori blinks. He hears chairs scrape the floor, a flurry of movement all around them. The way Tatsuki spoke, he meant to say he’d be gone longer…His heart swells. Happy, he wants to join in the movement, help any way he can. But his mother captures his wrist and makes him sit down beside her. 

“You’re staying with me. About that request of yours…” His mother whispers; she wasn’t completely happy with it, never wanting any harm done to her children. But the Tulip custom would demand it one way or the other from Tatsuki, and Akinori would not bow out of being equal to him in every way possible. “I allow it. A box will come to your rooms during dinner. No one knows what it is for, just as you asked me.”

The queen kisses her son’s forehead. “Now, off you go for your final fitting! I have to make sure the cake preparations will get started.”

*

*

Natsuko intercepts Tatsuki at his carriage when he steps out. She’s been running, a flush spreading across her cheeks. Motoya greets her excitedly.

“Hello! Thanks for the carriages again,” he says, and Natsuko quickly nods to him. She doesn’t let Tatsuki pass, however, as she orders her people to help with the luggage. He’s cut off somehow, with his back to the open carriage door.

“Welcome once more! I hope you had a good trip?” She cries. Tatsuki nods, looking to help with his own luggage. He has a lot more this time, intending to stay after all. Natsuko hushes some girl up who tries to take a heavy box from Rintarou, who hugs it close and simply shakes his head. As Rin finds an opening to quickly bring it inside, Tatsuki peers down at Natsuko.

“Thank you,” he says, barely getting it out as Natsuko takes him by the arm and pulls him aside. She’s smaller than Akinori and her older sisters, and yet carries a lot of strength. Blinking, Tatsuki listens to Natsuko’s flustering explanations as to why she’s here.

Tatsuki learns of the saddest of all customs when Natsuko tells him that he’s not allowed to see Akinori before the wedding commences.

“It’s a dumb custom, but it’s one that has been done since our second queen. Those to be wedded aren’t allowed to see nor speak to one another four days prior. It’s a custom to test love and let those who want to marry think it all over one more time. Akinori is very sad about it, and wanted me to make sure you wouldn’t be upset.”

“Ah, in our realm we’re not allowed to see the person on the day before the ceremony. It brings bad luck. Four days is quite a lot,” Motoya says, and Natsuko nods along. 

“A world of bad luck.”

“It will be alright. I was gone too,” Tatsuki says, making his heart hurt less by looking forward to seeing Akinori on their wedding day. It might be better like this; Tatsuki could keep his secret a little longer hidden and safe. Rintarou would hide the most precious flower away until the day comes to gift it.

“Oh, one more thing! Your mother didn’t know, Tatsuki— Our pastry makers are losing their minds. The cake can be made in 2 days, but if you have some ingredient that’s hard to get or needs a lot of preparation… So, I need to know your favourite cake filling.”

Motoya, who has been loading up larger clothing boxes onto a cart to be brought into the palace, steps next to a very confused Tatsuki. “A what now?”

Tatsuki searches his brain if they ever had anything that was introduced as ‘cake’. He watches as Suna bends his body to the side to look past the servants, to address a smiling but equally confused Natsuko. “Excuse us, but we only fill pheasants, goose and chickens when we cook them in a large oven. What the bloody petals is a cake, and what would a common ‘filling’ possibly be here?”

*

*

The big hakama is so heavy on its own that the multiple layers above barely bother him. Akinori swirls the large sleeves around. The customary marriage clothing is even bigger than what he wears during sacrificial dances. Like any article of clothing, it bears accents that were tied in with him; the yukata was white, the obi a deep orange. Large orange leaves cover the hakama pants until it fades into the same orange colour. Towards the top the leaves fade into outlines alone, and then white leaves that were barely visible from afar. For his autumn name.

“You have waited weeks and four days, you can stay still a little longer, Akinori! Come sit back down!” Haruka screeches, her hair a mess not yet fixed by the stylist. Akinori basks in the glory of the day, a special day for him! All of Chrysanthensia has come out of their homes. They sit in the streets close to the palace, on top of the roof tops. They are singing and waving orange flags in his honour. Atop of the palace, sentries and guards were firing shots every 99th minute since the sunrise. The people sing the hymn of their country, while the orchestra joins in with the hymn of the land of Tulips. It was chaos and harmony, all at once. Just for his sake, and for Tatsuki, and to let the goddess notice this blessed union of flower families.

Akinori peels himself away from it all, to sit down and let Haruka finish his fox-styled make up. Her own eyes and lips were pure white this time, as were the faces painted of all his sisters. Only his mother, father and himself were styled in the special make up that bore the orange and red colours of their goddess.

“There, done. Now help me with my hair!”

Akinori sputters a laugh. He looks up to the waiting hair stylist. “What am I supposed to do with it!?”

Haruka hands him a few petals. Akinori can count them in his palm. “Pray!”

Once they’re done, Haruka leads Akinori down the now empty halls. In front of them go the last of the stylists and personal attendants, all eager to attend. At the open door to the throne room, Yamato and Haruki await him. They’re dressed in full orange, and both wear half a fox mask covering their face; two pieces of a whole. Yamato holds an orange and white cushion with the rings. Haruki proudly holds the large banner of the Chrysanthemum line, an honour he only takes from Natsuko on this very day.

Haruka breathes out, her hair perfect. She blows kisses to both the boys.

“I will pet that half-armoured goat for you two as well,” Haruka says. Half the court is up in the skies about the battle goat one of Tatsuki’s close attendants has brought to the festivity. Akinori is curious too, but he, Yamato and Haruki couldn’t stop to look at it right away. The second oldest daughter breathes in, out, and deeply in again as she passes them into the room.

Her loud voice heralds the arrival of her only brother.

The three men exchange no words between them. Yamato and Haruki turn to advance into the throne room, with Akinori close behind. Haruki's last act is to put down a large white veil that reaches down to Akinori’s knees. He insisted on having one, just like it was the right of every female-born into their line. Just like he wanted to have one at the dance, for a shocking reveal.

When Akinori enters, the court throws dead leaves at his feet. He crunches forward over them, unable to stop smiling. Following behind the banner, he cannot see the front. Well-wishes come whispered from all sides, and the murmur of his beauty goes through the room. He sees a tall boy holding the horn of his goat, bowing his head low and whispering Akinori’s name in reverence.

His mother stands in front of her throne, the large unique banner of the Vixen behind her. She clasps her hands in prayer around a red tulip and a multi-coloured chrysanthemum. The outfits, hair and makeup are the same, and the banner plus the queen appear as two drops of water.

“All eyes on my only son. Konoha Akinori, fourth child of the line of Chrysanthemum, chaos-bringer to Chrysanthensia, luck-holder and trickster who has prayed for our realm and its continued prosperity. You who may not carry the blood of our goddess…you are still a child of my womb, and one of my brightest and sweetest to walk the halls of the palace,” his mother says. Akinori thinks he might cry as well, as his mother’s face shows tears already. “Today is a grand day! In which I have the honour to give you away, without having to lose sight of you. Chrysanthensia is blessed to have you in this era. As the 99th queen, I hereby proclaim my son born in the 9th month to be given away to Washio Tatsuki, youngest son of the house of Tulips, and the only worthy being to be marrying my beautiful boy.”

Akinori bows his head to his mother, keeping his eyes closed as he walks up to the steps. A special dais waits there, and Akinori’s feet take careful note not to trip over it. He finds his sitting cushion and sinks down gracefully. He hears Yamato settling behind him, opposite of where Suna would be. Before Haruki sits down on the other corner, the sound of a large banner being put down enters Akinori’s ear. It would be their emblem now, for Akinori always was different.

“Akinori of the Konoha family, open your eyes to view your future.”

Waiting the few seconds it takes for Tatsuki to capture the end of the veil and pull it over, Akinori opens his eyes slowly when he feels the ceremonial uncovering. Akinori is covered up all over, while Tatsuki appears once more half naked in front, sitting on his knee. He’s covered in henna ink, which appears black on his skin. One side of his chest has the mountains of his old home, reaching over down to the other side of his lower ribcage to show the valley of his new home. Akinori peers over every little detail, noticing that the mountain ridge resembles an owl flying down…and the valley has clearly two arms with sharp nails, welcoming the bird of prey.

Tatsuki’s eye makeup might just be two black smears of powder, but they reach up high to his temples. Like the ears of an owl, or the pointy ears of a fox.

To their side, facing the now quiet crowd, the two Queens raise a ribbon surrounding the dais. They cut it to signify the ending of what has been before, then tie it to strengthen the beginning of what will come in the future. Next, the two fathers put white ribbons over the already tied first. Shikika and Tetsuya tie around a third, which is a mixture of dark blue and bright orange. As the highest royals return to their seats, an old blind woman shuffles forwards, holding the three-way tied ribbon.

“The tying of two royal families might be ordinary, but the union of flower families has not been common since the last Petal War. Nor shall this unique bond be untied by bare hands. It cannot be ripped apart by two parties trying to tug at them. Only sharp weaponry may try to force the bond apart…and to whoever holds handle in an attempt to try this unholy act? The house of Tulip and the line of Chrysanthemum vow vengeance, today, tomorrow, and on all the days to come. For they will only see the sons of their realms be happy and in love, today, tomorrow, and on all the years before them. From this day forth, these families are one, bound by the love of the two individuals you see here before you. May the goddess of our valley bless their names.”

The old crone takes a breath to let her words settle. Anyone who would be stupid enough to protest would think twice about it now. She continues.

“Washio Tatsuki, 6th child of Washio Tetsuya, King of the Tulips, and Konoha Akinori, fourth child of Queen Konoha Shichishoku have gathered here themselves, all of their families, most of their court, and all of Chrysanthensia, to portray the love and the bond only they can achieve and uphold. Their presence alone on this dais is a promise made forever, to never have hatred or disloyalty come between them.

“As we are gathered here, we will now behold the vows these two men will make. Once the vows are said, once the blood is shared, and once they will stand up from this very dais in front of their loved ones, we will sing their hymn of love and respect.”

Akinori smiles. He’s heard the Chrysanthemum version of this so often. To hear the little differences, additions Queen Washio wanted to make…it was truly a day of miracles. He watches now as Tatsuki takes out a dagger from a dark blue cloth tied around his waist. A murmur goes through the larger crowd, which is made up of the court of Chrysanthemum. A gasp goes through them when Tatsuki unsheathes the dagger, and a thick silence follows as Tatsuki brings the tip of the blade to his chest.

High above the painted valley, the tip goes in. Akinori keeps as still as he can, watching the blade carve red lines into the flesh. Once it’s done, the letter A shows itself, dripping blood downwards to the henna ink.

“With this dagger I offer you Akinori, my undying fealty and allegiance. All of my blood belongs to you, as you have already captured my heart. In the name of your laugh, your beauty, and your wit…I will slay anyone daring to interfere with your happiness. From this day on, to all the days to come. For as long as there is breath in my lungs, sight in my eyes, and strength in my muscles—I shall rise like the fields of your land, stand tall and proud like the mountains in mine, to fight any enemy of yours. I swear this in blood, and offer this dagger to you, my love. Whenever you need my aid, it will be given to you without hesitation.”

Akinori accepts the dagger, knowing not to sheath it even if a sheath is given. He calms his heart under the watchful gaze of Tatsuki, then brings the blade to his lips. Carefully, he blesses the bit of blood to his mouth, keeping his eyes on Tatsuki.

“Blood of your veins, may it flow long. Heart in your chest, may it beat long. I accept this offer of blood to my house, long may you and I live to never see it fulfilled.”

Akinori swallows, putting the dagger on the upheld cushion in Sarukui’s hands. It stains their rings, as it should. He had a showcase prepared for it to put in later, after Queen Washio told him of this rite. Unable to glance at his family, Akinori’s hand goes behind him. Blindly, he gathers a knife of his own into his hand. He watches Tatsuki’s eyes go wide. A second, even louder gasp goes through the crowd; this time, the court of Tulips joins in. Tatsuki’s stare is unbearable. And yet, Akinori drowns out his fear, drowns out the shock coming in waves from his side of the crowd. The only ones who knew were his mother and mother-in-law.

He unsheathes the smaller knife, holding the point straight up, like a tulip. 

“For as long as I live, no matter the state of my health, I shall bring catastrophes to your enemies. For as long as my line…my house stands, we shall war any enemy of your realm. I make this oath in blood, and by blood will it come, for as long as you live,” Akinori says, knowing his word choice was right at every sentence. Shoving the many sleeves he wears up first, he brings the knife point to the upper side of his lower arm. It’s insanity to bring an actual weapon here, and even crazier to let royal blood be spilled. And yet…Akinori wouldn’t have it any other way.

After all, it isn’t goddess blood that would flow here. They all know.

Tatsuki takes his hand, turns it. His thumb rubs over Akinori’s wrist. Akinori’s eyes watch that thumb circling, hypnotizing him. An old rhyme solely for the children of the queen rises in him; ‘With the clock, and against, swirling petals, bloodstained gifts’. He exhales deeply, glancing at the veins under his wrist. His pulse races, but Tatsuki holds his hand, right there with him. The oaths were spoken, and their blood must flow to be joined together; the only way it could, on the rings.

Looking up once, Akinori needs nothing else to give him courage. The love and admiration in Tatsuki is enough to drive the knife point into his skin, and draw a bloody, painful ‘T’ into his flesh. He watches Tatsuki’s chest rise and fall. Akinori bites into his bottom lip at the pain, glad when he’s done carving in his own skin. He offers the knife to Tatsuki, who takes it with his free hand. Tatsuki’s thumb runs soothing circles over Akinori’s palm. All worth it.

Tatsuki mirrors his own customs back at Akinori. Suna’s eyes are wide as he accepts Yamato's cushion to receive the blade. Having to come up with an acceptance speech on the spot, Tatsuki takes a moment to close his eyes as the knife’s point rests on his lip.

“I accept this offer of blood to my house,” Tatsuki says, his voice the slightest bit shaky. “May yours never grace the earth, and stay steady and long in your veins.” Putting the knife on the awaiting cushion and rings, Tatsuki and Akinori then reach forward to kiss the blood stains away. An even more pressing silence comes over the halls, and they part as soundlessly as that. 

“House of Tulips, sons of the mountains; daughters of the valley, of the Chrysanthemum line: Behold! The houses and lines are now one, formed in unbreakable ties, vows made to uphold in loyalty, the blood oaths done for love. Watch, as their love blooms like no other. Watch as the children of your houses—Washio Tatsuki, last son of his house, and Konoha Akinori, only son of his line—are now and forever tied by the laws of our lands, by the wish of our goddess, by the blessings of our flowers. They sat down as single beings. Now, accepting the rings which will carry their oaths, they will rise as one.”

Suna wasn’t prepared to be the one to give the rings, making Yamato grin a little. Akinori waits with grace as Suna offers the cushion forwards, letting Tatsuki pick up the rings from between the sharp and bloody blades. One more trick, Akinori grins. His goddess wouldn’t have it any other way. Kyuuko is awake and hoots gently, and all the birds of the Washio families squawk gently along. 

Exchanging the rings, they kiss each other’s hands one after the other. Then in perfect synchronisation, they rise holding tight to one another.

The old crone steadies her hands on Yamato and Haruki shoulders, who lift her up with ease.

“Oh, hell hath no fury but a petal ripped from a flower before the blooming tide of spring. I pronounce you now husbands to each other. You may now kiss your husband,” the old crone says grinning at last. Yamato and Haruki bring her beside Suna and Komori, and the four personal friends bow their heads. 

Akinori’s smile couldn’t be wider, nor brighter. He reaches up, watching Tatsuki meet him in the middle for a searing kiss. The crowd swoons. Tatsuki’s hand goes under Akinori’s other multitude of sleeves, a hum of pride vibrating on Akinori’s lips. “I will get you for that, Aki.”

Akinori laughs up, unafraid. “Today, tomorrow, and all the decades to come?”

The answer is drowned in another kiss. The crone doesn’t need to be raised again as she yells out, “Long may they live! Long may their love bloom. Long live they!” The crowd explodes in cheers after resaying the chant. Thunderous applause carries outside the palace, as shots fire into the open sky. The entire city takes up the cheer, repeating it over and over.

Akinori looks over to his family; his parents beaming smiles, his sisters, his aunts. There’s not a single eye or face left dry. The makeup however stays perfectly intact.

The guests back off as much as possible as attendants bring in a long white table and several black chairs. For only one day, the sons of both families will sit in the center. On each side, their new in-laws sit beside the new sons they won today. The entire court settles before them, and towards the side into the extended courtroom. Like Akinori, they are looking forward to the cake.

Akinori barely sits three seconds before a hand falls to his shoulder. He looks over to King Tetsuya, realizing that he’s never seen his now father-in-law this close. His face is broken in a smile. He nods once, then toasts on Akinori’s boldness. Right beside him is Prince Tetsuya, who joins in. 

He bows over the table to whisper. “In the history of our realm, even with other marriages…No one has ever done our customs as beautifully and crazy as you! That was incredible, new little brother.” All the brothers join in with another toast, making Akinori blush. Queen Washio takes a large sip of her glass, not taking credit. She truly keeps silent on all her involvement.

As food is being brought around to the courtroom and to all the citizens waiting outside, Tatsuki exchanges soft words with Akinori’s mother. He cannot hear what’s being said. But then the crowd watches on as again, a weapon is being brought into the throne room. And this time, queen Shichishoku lets her fingers run over it.

“From all my daughters to you. They believe that you’re as much worthy as a daughter of my blood.”

Akinori watches Tatsuki blink as a large, golden handled sword is presented to Tatsuki. With it comes new special clothes; the banners interwoven into a new piece like that which hangs behind him, embroidered on the front and in the back.

Sitting at the very end of the tables, even Komori and Suna get gifts. Komori receives bows and arrows, and Suna gets a large shield. Haruka yells over to them, “Tomorrow afternoon, the stables. You two and me.” 

The table laughs. Attendants give Yamato and Haruki new special clothing as well, and each gets a spear. Tatsuki’s own gifted clothing elevates itself by the fine soft fabrics. Akinori whispers in his ear, “Don’t worry. I have them too. And we can get some more revealing pieces tailor-made to our wishes.”

There’s wedding gifts from the court, from the people. Neither Tatsuki nor Akinori has ever received this much at once. They’re a little overwhelmed, but Akinori is happy that he can share this feeling with his husband. They hold hands under the table, making sure they’re both alright as the gift-receiving continues. When Akinori thinks it’s all done, he nuzzles Tatsuki’s cheek.

“It is custom for my family to also give a gift…but it’s given in private,” Akinori smiles shyly. Tatsuki nods.

“Fine with me…however the gift I have to give you…it would be cruel to not show it around first.”

Akinori claps his hands. “Oh, I don’t mind! As long as it’s not something to eat, you’re good!” Akinori laughs, his eyes brought to Prince Tetsuya as he stands up. The crowd becomes silent as he brings a dark wooden box forward. Akinori’s excitement doesn’t fade, even as he feels his mother, father, and two oldest sisters become very silent too. The same pattern repeats on the lower end of Tatsuki’s line of brothers. The dark wooden box is adorned with the carved outline of a tulip. There’s no colour to be seen on it otherwise. 

Too late, Akinori realizes that the box could actually have a tulip inside. His insides freeze.

Tetsuya bows his head to Akinori, placing the box gently on the table.

“My youngest brother will carry a new title in the walls of our house from this day forward. Youngest and last were what he was called all his life, by the sheer fact of his birth rank. Today, he will also be named Tatsuki the Boldest. For he has done what no Washio has dared in the past 9 generations. Braving the highest peaks of our mountains is a test of will for love by any son of our house. He has stepped beyond that, and presents herewith the greatest gift known to be given from our house to another living being. Every son before him who has married might now be ashamed to have given out only the _second best_ gift of all.” Tetsuya steps aside, allowing all eyes of the room to go to the box. 

Tatsuki reaches over carefully, bringing Akinori’s hand on top of the wood. His voice isn’t as booming or reaching. It’s almost as if he wants just Akinori to hear.

“To Konoha Akinori, the only son of the Chrysanthemum line…with joy and love, may I present our rarest tulip to you. Proudly I may say, the single-most rare flower in all the realms. It is the only gift worthy of you, as you are the single-most important person in the world to me. Only this tulip could match you in beauty and in grace. I swore my loyalty to you by blood. I swear my love to you, by these petals.”

Staring down at the hand covering his, Akinori gets goosebumps. He feels Tatsuki’s unblinking stare on him. Swallowing, Akinori shoves the lid up and away. A green stem appears, cut from rock; little pebbles still are attached to it. The box slides open further and further, until the first sight of non-colour meets Akinori’s eyes.

His heart stops—then beats a hundred times as his jaw slacks. The lid falls to the table. As careful as he’d been with his baby sister newly born into the world, Akinori lifts the pure white tulip up. The entire room mimics his reactions, and he notices past the white petals how all colour drains from the Tulip court. They don’t pray to gods, and have no godly name to call upon. And yet they whisper in awe.

Akinori feels stiff, as if he himself has turned to stone. He thinks he feels tears, but his body has become numb. In his wildest dreams of the past weeks, he had actually thought of a red tulip. There’s been rumours of dark blue ones, picked for the women marrying into the Tulip house. But to see a pure white tulip…Akinori turns his face slowly to face Tatsuki’s. Rough thumbs clean his face of every tear, and Akinori slowly closes his mouth at last.

He hears his mother call for nine guards, and there’s further whispered instruction. Akinori, loyal to his mother’s wishes, slowly brings the tulip down to its box to be carried away. The guards approach carefully, even as they stand behind him, they do not dare to touch the box. Shikika gets up from her seat, crouches next to Akinori.

“Will you let me take it safe? I swear on my first born daughter, I will be the utmost careful.”

Akinori nods slowly, and Tatsuki hands the box to Shikika. From the least important child of one line to the most revered child of the other, Akinori cannot imagine what is going through them. He hardly knows what he’s feeling himself, aside from unbridled shock. Tatsuki’s hands then fold around his, the golden band bright on top with the blood dried upon it.

“I knew that if…everything would go well, I’d pick a red one. But you…you made me dare to go and try the unthinkable. Only this gift I could give to you, Akinori.”

The entire room finds their voice. They murmur along, and Akinori has a feeling that the proud Tulip court mixes around, to make sure that the legends and importance of the white tulip are shared. State secrets be forsaken, as the union between the families starts today. However, what Tatsuki whispers into Akinori’s ear, the knowledge King Tetsuya shares with the other King and Queen…those no one else could know.

“This tulip has even greater properties than our famous red ones. It lengthens your life, makes you stronger and more vital. It is even said to bestow unknown wisdom…what you want to do with it, how you want to use it…that’s all up to you. Our highest advisor will let you know if you wish. But all I intended to do was to make this promise; to treat you as my most special person. Worth 50 of these, when each 500 years, only 5 might be born in my old home. Akinori…In no 100 years could I have ever met a man like you. I am truly blessed to be your wedded husband. I do hope my gift to you is acceptable this time. I will do my best for each gift made to you from now on, even if they can’t ever match this great one. At least…I do hope you think it’s great—”

Akinori kisses him hard to shut him up, and those that notice clap and cheer. 

“You talk so much hm?” Akinori whispers in tease, watching Tatsuki smile and nod.

As Shikika and the guards bring the box away, no one dares close to the tulip. His mother gets up to reseat herself next to Queen Washio, conversing on how best to preserve it.

“Knowing my son, I think he might want it encased and on a nice visible spot…we have to get the best locksmiths. And special glass!” 

King Tetsuya laughs, not minding one bit being passed by instead of asking himself.. He turns to King Konoha. “As I saw Tatsuki return with the white tulip…I could not be outdone. Well. To be quite honest. I am outdone anyway. But please, accept this gift from my family to yours.”

Guards with the Tulip emblem come forward with a large box, held at both ends. They reveal red tulips, to be gifted to each member of the Konoha family. Haruka takes two, one for herself and one for their oldest sister currently away and smells them both. The rest will be kept safe, for all the nephews and nieces Akinori has.

King Tetsuya continues, “I would wish that everyone Akinori holds dear to stay healthy forever. We are each other’s family right now as well, and as such…” 

Queen Musertia smiles, patting his arm. The Konoha family say their thank yous, placing the tulips back to be brought away. The two guards are replaced by Chrysanthemum ones; Queen Shichishoku special guards. She nods. 

“To the holiest of our places…They will be the safest there.”

As the court room finally calms down, Akinori regains a little more strength in his joints and voice. He squeezes back into Tatsuki’s hands, who has been gentle with his wrist the entire time. Leaning into where a bandage covers the red A on Tatsuki’s chest, Akinori kisses the gauze.

“I want to see that white tulip forever. If those insane properties are ever needed…we will see. But I do not want to eat or drink it away.” Akinori nudges Tatsuki’s side playfully. “And I am sure you know that I would rather not consume a gift which is then gone. Even if it does wonderful things to my physical or mental health. It’s kinda cute though, to think it would live within me…”

Tatsuki laughs gently, kissing his forehead. “I was very much hoping you would say that. I know you like things that aren’t edible.” For that, Akinori can’t help himself. He brings his lips to Tatsuki’s ear. 

“Oh, don’t count too much on that. You look like a dessert to me…” The words are barely whispered before the grand doors open. Akinori’s eyes twinkle, and his hand runs around Tatsuki’s biceps. “Oooooh, the timing of our pastry chefs is impeccable! Guess you have a dessert rival.”

Akinori checks Tatsuki’s face for a reaction, only to see the roundest possible eyes Tatsuki has ever made. The same reflects on the brothers along the table. Queen Musertia says a silent ‘oh my’. The only one looking unperturbed is King Washio—that is, until he too makes a quiet gesture with his hands. The surprise is reflected upon the Washio-court side, as their heads turn to watch the big wedding cake enter. Akinori thinks he can see Suna mouth a curse, while Komori might have just died on the inside.

“When Natsuko mentioned a cake...I thought it would be smaller,” Tatsuki says, as the proud pastry chefs set down the wedding cake in front of the grooms. One side is largely blue, covered in blueberries and blackberries. On the other side, the cake fades into a bright orange, with peaches and nectarines. Artful swirls meet in the middle, white glaze spiralling all around like a tornado. A perfect match of the stormy Vixen and the mountain weather.

The head pastry chef first bows to Queen and King Konoha, then to King and Queen Washio.

“Long, long ago, history tells us our valley goddess met a god of the forest. A large, murderous owl who protected the creatures of the woods. It is said that instead of exchanging words, the animal deities exchanged no words, as their tongues weren’t common to one another. Instead, they exchanged a show of strength. This is known to any child here; one swing of the nine-tails could create an instant hurricane. But our goddess was met with the power of another god, whose dark wings caused a storm of his own making. Where valley and forest met, a dark spot marks forever their meeting—a tornado carrying lightning strikes and thunder. Knowing within that moment of power, that neither meant to harm the other, or indeed what they protected, the fox goddess and the owl god struck a friendship. The owl god understood that the fox goddess would protect the creatures in her realm, and he left them in her care.”

The pastry chef turns to Akinori with a twinkle in his eye, then to Tatsuki, nodding proudly.

“From friendship to love, nothing could have inspired me more than this; knowing that the owl god travelled to and probably over the mountains. Our histories, our stories could have ended there. But two sons of these flowering realms decided to continue the story, deepen it, strengthen it. In combining their likes and strength, I could only create this tornado cake in their honour!”

The pastry chef bows under thunderous applause. Oh, if only he knew...But Akinori stays silent, clapping as hard as everyone else and thanking the chef for this wonderful creation. Akinori can’t tell if it’s the story-telling or the cake that is now making the Washio family fall into silence. He’s busy instead with grabbing Tatsuki’s hand.

“We’re supposed to make the first cut into the cake,” Akinori whispers, and is glad when he manages to make his stalwart mountain-man move—if somewhat stiffly—away from the table. Tatsuki blinks towards the golden-handled sword and points. Akinori swallows his sputtering and pulls Tatsuki around the long table, where the head pastry chef hands him a large cutting knife. Tatsuki looks lost, and so Akinori takes the knife, then guides Tatsuki’s hand over his.

They sit down quickly after this, and Tatsuki remains silent as a piece of cake is put upon his plate. Everyone stays still, and Akinori is glad that the Washio family turns their heads collectively to his mother in respect. Good too, because it’s for Akinori’s mother a privilege to taste the cake first, and compliment the chef.

“Extraordinary! Just like my son, and the new son I have received today. Please, everyone enjoy!” She says, already continuing to eat as most of the cake is still being handed around. Akinori laughs, then picks up his fork. He can’t help himself; he looks over to King Tetsuya, who carefully takes the fork. Tamafumi is inspecting his cake piece from all sides, and Tanosuke is sniffing at it.

_Oh dear._ “H-have you never had...cake before?” He whispers it as to not make a scene. King Tetsuya slowly turns his head to Akinori, still not having taken a bite. 

“I can’t be sure. During state visits, I have eaten many things, not always knowing what it was, or what it was called. I feel that it is...unbecoming of a king to appear not knowledgeable. So I eat, and thank my hosts,” the king says. His first born namesake takes the first bite, following it up by making an indecent moan. Sounds of pleasure when it comes to food are next to normal, and Akinori only frowns upon the fact that the Tulip realm has been deprived of such a simple luxury for so long.

“Ahw, my,” Prince Tetsuya says, his eyes round and bright. “This is so good!”

Soon after, all the brothers are eating, and their curious court follows along. Soon the happy sounds multiply across the room. The Konoha court side is no stranger to these kinds of cakes, and compliment the chefs profusely for this ingenious meeting of tastes.

Slowly, Tatsuki eats too. He’s slow and silent, letting the cake melt in his mouth probably. Akinori looks on in quiet excitement.

“And?”

“If I’d known you had this all along...I would have been a lot more forward in my courtship with you.”

Akinori can’t help but laugh sweetly. He thumbs away a piece of blue filling from Tatsuki’s mouth corner, who keeps on eating carefully slowly, enjoying every bite like it was the last. Akinori finishes his cake too—theirs were the pieces taken from the middle of where the two worlds meet.

“So you like blueberries huh? I will let the kitchens know to prepare blueberry jam for you when the harvest comes,” Akinori says while forking one blueberry. There was still so much to know and unravel between them; it could be scary, but Akinori doesn’t know fear as love always trumps in the end. As if reading his mind, Tatsuki’s lips kiss his cheek.

“Jam I know of, and I will be looking forward to eating it at breakfast with you,” Tatsuki says, his arm going around Akinori’s shoulder. Before they can start to gaze longingly into each other’s eyes, the pastry chef brings them another piece of cake—this one was meant to share, and Akinori lovingly feeds Tatsuki. Watching him close his eyes in pleasure as a piece of peach slips onto his tongue.

“It’s a good thing we have joined houses. We must acquire a Chrysanthensian chef to make us cake at home,” Queen Musertia says softly, and all her sons who wouldn’t stay here nod enthusiastically.

*

*

Tatsuki wasn’t able to say before how beautiful Akinori looks. From the moment that Komi and the banner stepped aside, and Akinori’s ethereal beauty had walked forward—he was stunned. So much so that until he opened his mouth for the Tulip Blood Oath, he believed he wouldn’t be able to speak. Not with Akinori sitting down on the dais, in all his glory. Somehow, being covered up by several layers was even more tempting than when he had come out to a dance in the sheerest materials. 

They dance tonight as well, making their rounds slowly in circles.

Nevermind too, that Akinori performed a Blood Oath himself. He’d altered parts to his own structure. Tatsuki’s heart rate didn’t calm down until long after the kiss. When they sat down for the rest of the ceremony, he made sure Akinori’s wrist was well-bandaged by his own hand. 

He checks it now too. Their hands together up to the point, Tatsuki stares at the bandage. The bleeding has stopped, but perhaps Akinori was in pain. The music softly swells around them. The sisters sing the songs of their valley, of joyful days and prosperous futures. Their voices are softest still, when they mention the birth of their brother, and the catastrophe that struck the land. Tatsuki listens as Akinori smiles, comes closer. Akinori’s hand puts Tatsuki’s where it belongs.

“I will let you lead the next dance, after I teach it to you,” Akinori grins gently up, taking the first steps of their marital dance as the sister’s song changes. Tatsuki’s breath is taken once again. He keeps his hands where they should be, when truly he wants to touch Akinori’s face. Marvel at the colours spread over his features. It’s then he finds his voice to speak the words he couldn’t before.

“You look even foxier and more enchanting than usual, Akinori.” Tatsuki’s let’s his words fall close to Akinori’s lips. Akinori grins, adding more and more to that perfect sight of a boy born in a fox hole. He might not share the goddess’ blood, but that didn’t matter one bit to Tatsuki. In his eyes, Akinori was a fox, through and through.

“I like accentuating what’s already there,” he says, slowing down his step. Tatsuki is a fast learner; there were little differences between fighting and dancing. Soon he leads, like Akinori promised before. They make several turns around the ballroom. His newly acquired sisters are now joined by his brothers. To everyone’s surprise, they produce higher tones to match the song. They sing of Tatsuki’s birth, his valour in battle and his loyalty to the throne. There’s no negativity in the words, nothing degrading. Akinori sighs. “We might only have today. Being the center of attention, the most important in the room. To have a day completely dedicated to us, and us alone.”

“As if you didn’t enjoy the courtship and the attention before,” Tatsuki teases, twirling Akinori around.

At last, the siblings combine to wish the two newlyweds well in their blossoming future. It inspires Tatsuki to soothe Akinori. He leans in close. 

“Do not forget, we will have so much more time to ourselves this way. And I know your vanity likes the attention,” Tatsuki says, not minding the knee that kicks his thigh sneakily when they turn; Akinori’s billowing outfit hides the attack from the onlookers. And everyone is looking at them. “I can ensure you…you will always be the center of my attention. You can count on it.”

At least this makes Akinori blush a little. Tatsuki smiles down; he couldn’t wait to show how much he means those words. How much Akinori means to him… 

Akinori grasps Tatsuki’s hand tighter towards the end. He takes a step back to make a minor bow to the audience. Tatsuki follows his lead, letting Akinori show where to bow to. At last they bow to their siblings. Akinori’s father says it’s now time for others to join, whichever way they please. To the surprise of the Tulip house, he then asks King Tetsuya for a dance. Queen Konoha walks towards Tatsuki’s mother with a stretched out hand. Even if his parents look surprised, they do not reject the royal invite. Soon they join in with the dance; Akinori’s mother appears to lead solemnly, hardly able to keep a straight face whenever Tatsuki watches her turn his mother. Meanwhile, Akinori’s father stomps across the dance floor with King Tetsuya going along. The two of them laugh, and the rest of the party claps when they are done.

Akinori’s laugh is the sweetest of all. “I had my money on the rejection!”

Tatsuki can’t help himself. He bites Akinori’s lips. “As if my ancestors would allow backing down from a challenge.”

Bringing Akinori towards the table where the royal highnesses sit down, they take their places to watch the crowd dance. Tatsuki doesn’t mention it to Akinori yet, knowing his father wants it to be a surprise. When King Tetsuya finally parts from the other king (and to a bombastic applause as well), he strides over to the two husbands. Silence is one of his family strengths, so Tatsuki joins in when his father commands the barrier by his actions. They wait until both the queens and king Konoha sit down once more, to catch their breath.

It’s up to queen Musertia to break the news.

“If you allow it and could make the trip…We would love to show Akinori and of course your entire family our home and hearth. And, if you consent, throw a wedding parting at our palace, perhaps exactly after one year of marriage. It might be different from what you’re used to...” Queen Musertia says, gauging the reactions of the other royal pair. Besides Tatsuki, Akinori’s jaw drops a little.

“Oh, that would be wonderful! I know it means a lot that both of you are here…” Queen Konoha says. “We have sent guards to your home for extra protection, considering…Yes, we would like to go!” 

Akinori looks from one set of parents to the other, not believing what he’s hearing. Tatsuki presses into his hand, smiling. Akinori looks at him then, with that grin he would love to see forever. Another day, just for them. They might not have had many moments like this before, and surely there wouldn’t be anything like this again. But Tatsuki doesn’t mind a party thrown in their honour, or for the realm he was born in to see his new husband. 

They’re called to dance many more times. The households mix, and soon decorum and proper seating is forgotten. They’re family now. A complete, never before seen combination of regentdoms. Tatsuki figures it’s only for one night that this kind of chaos is allowed to reign. That only his marriage to a chaos-bringer could call forth the forgetting of heirs and who comes first, who is most important to the throne. 

But he hadn’t forgotten about something Akinori had said to him. While the party still goes strong, the husbands are allowed to excuse themselves. They do so by excusing themselves to every parent and sibling, either their blood or their new in-laws. Akinori’s mother doesn’t say anything, merely releasing a happy sigh watching them go. Tatsuki’s brothers have the decorum to not wink or say anything that could make Akinori blush. By stark contrast, which is now of course accepted and welcomed, Akinori’s sisters do not behave in such a way when they see Akinori off. He gets pulled aside, whispering things into his ear. Things that make his ears blush, his eyes narrow, and that sharp tongue lash out. Tatsuki thanks the mountains that no one, especially not Haruka, is trying to tell him something or the other. 

Akinori walks over to him, rattled. “Really!” he says, but there’s no real poison in his voice. “From people who should know better!” he continues, as his arm goes through Tatsuki’s waiting one. The party sees them off with glances and cheers, toasts on their health. There were ceremonies in both their realms; to see the newlyweds—most of which would further their houses and lines with offspring—off to a good wedding night. 

Neither of them would father children however, and Tatsuki likes this way more. To slink off into the night, to be taken by Akinori’s hand and lead towards a bright future. 

When they round a corner and the music of the ballroom is mere background noise, Tatsuki pulls Akinori back to him. They kiss in the silence of a darker corridor, unseen by sentries as most of their positioning has been relocated due to the wedding and the party. Tatsuki kisses Akinori’s bandage too, asking without speaking. Akinori leans his hand up to Tatsuki’s hair.

“It doesn’t hurt,” he says, and Tatsuki could almost believe it. He nods as if he does, kissing the palm of Akinori’s hand. The air charges between them. Akinori tries to lead him towards his old bedroom for one last look in his old quarters. They could go to their newly assigned quarters, although it’s not completely furnished yet. It seems that Akinori doesn’t want to view the new place in this light just yet. When Akinori attempts to walk them back to his room, Tatsuki almost follows. After all, it’s their first night as a married couple. The first night of many…

He stops Akinori a little firmer this time, placing the fox between himself and the wall. “Didn’t you say that all the nation's secrets would be revealed to me?” He teases, kissing Akinori’s neck. That incredible scent begs him further down, and so Tatsuki’s tongue follows the taste for more as Akinori answers.

Akinori swallows his bite slowly. “No one but the highest order can reveal them to you. And what the contents, no one in or outside my family can be certain of. It will be tailored to you, personally.”

Parting from Akinori’s neck, Tatsuki thinks of the Queen and the King. He watches Akinori’s serious face, his disquietude. Then he asks if it’s the queen, as silently as one could. Akinori shakes his head.

“Higher.”

It must be the heat in his body, or the emptiness around them. The glasses of colourful liquor handed to him at every point of the party might be part of it too. Tatsuki doesn’t get it, doesn’t think he will get it with how serious and vague Akinori shows himself to be. 

From the corridor they had come from, louder noises follow them. Tatsuki looks up, his thirst for knowledge forgotten as his friends and Akinori’s slump forward. They’re four in a row, one more drunk than the other. Sarukui seems to be okay the most; he walks straight, holds tightly onto Rintarou and Komi. Komi has given Rintarou his half-fox mask, and it's all askew along with the black hair. Motoya, larger-looking at the moment, is the sole reason they sway from side to side. Rintarou is almost knocked into walls, but his straight face betrays nothing. While his face might be stone, his legs are all liquid. It’s a miracle these four got so far.

“TO THE PRINCE! AND THE PRINCE!” Komi bellows, and Tatsuki blinks at the sound coming from such a small man. But Komi could take Motoya down at the stables, so Tatsuki sets that thought away real quick.

“Come ooooon, let’s see your new place!” Motoya prompts, walking forward. He drags the other three along. His free hand finds Akinori who flusters, and Tatsuki is firmly put between Sarukui and Rintarou. Rintarou pinches him in the side, as if Tatsuki has ever been ticklish. 

Their four personal friends cry out how they never had quite these luxuries. How they too, have won so much. Suna doesn’t seem bothered by the bright walls around them. He passes out before they reach Akinori’s and Tatsuki’s new quarters. Komori helps him up, aided by none other than Komi. Sarukui clasps his hand on both the husbands’ shoulders, letting his head sink.

“Tomorrow night it is…when we’re sober,” Sarukui says, then kisses Akinori on the cheek. Strength Tatsuki hadn’t known could be in the hand on his shoulder presses him down, and Tatsuki holds still as a sloppy kiss presses into his temple. “Blessed!” 

Sarukui follows the rest, a party of chaos Tatsuki hasn’t quite seen before. Akinori stammers and sputters, apologizes while his face is red. Then he sighs, taking Tatsuki by the hand. 

“Let’s go to my old room…I have a lock that those fools won’t be able to open.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the skeleton idea of the wedding--which is the part of the oaths, the outfits and make up--that's what I had in my head the first time I dreamed this story up. Building on it, expanding it, not forgetting Onaga and his battle goat ww It was so much fun!!
> 
> also sunakomosarukomi drunk shenanigans...........i cannot. They would probably end up at the Stables or trying to fight each other with their new weapons (which were taken from them and brought to their rooms as soon as the alcohol started to get to them at all www). Please imagine Saru as the only voice of reason and sighing a million times.


	7. Flowers bloom, day and night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh I don't even wanna say much?? just gonna earn the rest of my erotic tags from here on out, and uhhh??? I love how the second wedding night turned out uvu!
> 
> Please enjoy~

Tatsuki’s throat dries out when he watches Akinori undress slowly. He wasn’t allowed to touch just yet. Made to look, he secretly enjoys how his hunger becomes ravenous. He lies completely still as Akinori reveals more of himself. Fire burns in his loins remembering the tattoo. How he would soon touch and kiss it, see it from behind when he sinks into Akinori…that thought has Tatsuki’s hands ball themselves to fist. The want is unbearable, and he knows Akinori enjoys being wanted so much, to dictate if he can be taken or only seen.

“I wouldn’t have thought you such a tyrant, my love,” Tatsuki says, able to keep the strain out of his voice. Akinori puts aside the lower half of his outfit. Bare skin slides over Tatsuki’s lap, sitting down fully while the rest of Tatsuki’s lower half remains clothed. Languid and skilful hands spread over his stomach. Tatsuki doesn’t know where and how he finds the restraint to not beg, when Akinori’s hips slowly rock over his fully hardened, and still clothed penis.

“Oooh, I am certain the true tyrant hides under here…you’re going to bully me with that, mhn?” Akinori says, his voice several tones deeper. Heat creeps into Tatsuki’s face, and he shakes his head. Releasing a shuddering breath, he uncurls his hands and settles them over Akinori’s bare hips.

“If you would allow me…” Tatsuki tries, wondering what other tricks he has to endure. “Nothing but pleasure will be given to you, Aki.”

Akinori’s smile softens, as if he knows. He should know. He lowers himself down, his elbows running alongside Tatsuki’s. His forearms and chest press into Tatsuki’s torso, and he flattens himself perfectly across Tatsuki. Before he can say another word, Akinori’s lips kiss Tatsuki’s collarbone. But Tatsuki stops those hips from seducing him into insanity. He keeps them still in an iron-grip. Akinori laughs.

“I’m sure there will be some pain involved.”

“Pleasurable pain,” Tatsuki promises. “And only if you truly enjoy it.” He eases off his thumbs a slight bit, feeling Akinori’s thighs contract around him.

“Mhnn, I surely hope it will be.” Akinori snakes up, letting his own hardened dick slide over Tatsuki’s stomach. He kisses Tatsuki’s jawline, whispering. “I am yours to do with as you want, Tatsu. All I ask…don’t hold back on my account. I want to see you go all out and enjoy it.”

Tatsuki didn’t need to be told twice. Given permission, he rolls them around. He loves that feather-light laughter bursting from Akinori’s mouth; he crushes it beneath his lips all the same. His hands gently take hold of Akinori’s knees, bending him a little. If Akinori makes him wait, it’s only fair to repay him the same. And yet Tatsuki’s own hungry mouth barely stops over the torso, too wanton for all the spots there are that he simply cannot focus on just one.

He kisses Akinori’s chest, his stomach, his hips. The inside of those dangerous thighs, the crooks of his ankle. Using his hands, Tatsuki wants Akinori to stay put, as he lowers his mouth to Akinori’s ass. Akinori doesn’t flinch, and almost expects him down below.

Pleased, Tatsuki lets his mouth enclose Akinori’s entrance, causing any sort of havoc he can create there. Soon Akinori’s sounds of pleasure fill the room. The things he says and wants are so obscene—Tatsuki loves every single moment. Loves most to hear his name spoken from those perfect lips. Feel those fingers curl into his hair. Tatsuki doesn’t care if his hair will be ruined. Ruination is all this bed will know tonight.

And yet for all his strength, he isn’t fast enough. Or more like; his brain cannot bring the commands to stop Akinori, as he twists and turns. 

Akinori’s hands undress him, touching him. Still on his back and below Tatsuki, but upside down. A smiling warm mouth kissing no other place but Tatsuki’s penis, taking him inside right away. And Tatsuki being made to rush forward into that heat, losing all patience. He’s curled over Akinori, letting his tongue go in deep to not just prepare his love, but to love him most deeply. Tatsuki’s knees dig into the mattress below, his hips paced when he rocks himself into Akinori’s mouth. They’re both occupied, unable to let anything but the low hum of their throat offer up sounds to the otherwise silent room. Tatsuki spreads Akinori’s ass wider, lost in the feeling of his lover. The knowledge that all of this is his to keep, with Akinori’s permission and love given.

That he could have this as often as they liked, as often as they could. 

*

*

When it came down to it, Akinori was nervous. He couldn’t help it; Tatsuki was so perfect, so reserved and sure of himself. Akinori should know inside his heart that he wasn’t inferior. After all, he made that penis rock hard. Everything about Tatsuki was hard by default, however. And that’s why Akinori—on his back with his legs held tightly between Tatsuki’s ribcage and biceps—couldn’t help but shiver.

Tatsuki’s eyes are depths that he gets lost into too easily. Akinori watches them come closer; feels with the rest of his body how Tatsuki lowers himself. Those perfect thighs inching as close as they can against the back of Akinori’s upper legs. An immovable object, now an unstoppable force. And yet those knuckles produce the most gentle touch as they run between the lines of wedding make up. Tatsuki holds still, but then stillness is his companion always. Akinori shivers more, his breath a shudder. He cannot be scared. There was no reason to be. Not with the first letter of his name was carved into Tatsuki’s skin; a blood oath to him, and him alone. 

They were each other’s, now and forever. 

“I promised you…gentleness and pleasure only,” Tatsuki says, breaking Akinori’s imposed silence.

“Pretty sure you said pleasurable pain…” Akinori laughs, too nervous to sound confident now. He sucked that cock off that was now jolting impatiently at his entrance. Tatsuki keeps the rest of him still, but he cannot hide how much he wants this. Akinori feels flattered by it. He was no stranger to intimacy…and yet—

Tatsuki’s kiss is as gentle as his hand. He brings that same one to Akinori’s, linking their fingers. Tatsuki kisses him long and deep, not using his tongue as well as Akinori knows he can. Tatsuki kisses his nose, then puts their foreheads together. “I love you, Aki…tell me what feels right for you. And if it doesn’t, tell me as well. If it hurts—”

“I think I can bear it,” Akinori says, Tatsuki’s own nervousness helping him to sound more secure. He swallows, once. “You’re so big…I am sure if my mouth can handle it, the rest will too. After some moments pass,” Akinori says, unable to stop talking. It’s his talking that gets Tatsuki to move forward all the way though. Akinori’s words envelope the large man on top of him, chipping away at his fears. Removes all doubt. Akinori sees it, until Tatsuki’s eyes close when he’s inside. The talking made Akinori forget how afraid he was. He gasps when he’s filled, unable to say another word for a second.

Bringing his free hand into Tatsuki’s neck, he makes sure their foreheads stay connected. “Marriage can be challenging…lucky for you…I enjoy a challenge.”

Tatsuki huffs a grin. His hip inch back, rock forward. Akinori bites his lips, feeling the unease of pain and not yet pleasure stretching him. He keeps his eyes open, hoping to assure Tatsuki that he’s fine, that he can take it. Tatsuki truly is big in every way; but his heart is racing too, and his hands remain warm and sweet. With his free hand, Tatsuki strokes Akinori’s side, as he slowly moves in and out in a perfect rhythm. With it, pain subsides, becoming searing pleasure. Akinori has to close his eyes when the intensity becomes too much. And his open mouth is just an invitation for Tatsuki to kiss him harder again.

In every way, Tatsuki takes his breath. Gives him more in return for stealing it. When Tatsuki leans up on his arms and creates a little space between their torsos, Akinori finds his way to effectively tease Tatsuki; when Tatsuki tries to inch himself off to slam back in hard, it’s Akinori’s ass that slows down the process. He tightens around Tatsuki’s cock, loving the way the man above him blushes deeply. Eyes haze over with lust, but their lips never forget how to speak sweetness to one another. They roll over the bed then, but Akinori is happy to not yet have to be on top. 

Tatsuki only makes it so that their heads are turned to the window, to the light reaching inside and illuminating their bodies, their movements. Nothing to hide, never again.

“Tatsuuu, you feel so good…goddess, you’re so thick…” Akinori gasps out, mewling when Tatsuki ups the pace a little from the encouragement. Their linked hands stay together throughout, while their free hands roam across one another. There’s so much to explore… Akinori brings Tatsuki’s head down, making him kiss the nipples one after the other. Akinori shows him what he likes, and his voice rises higher as the pleasurable feelings burn him. 

“Akinori,” Tatsuki whispers, near-breathless as the hot air from his mouth ghosts over Akinori’s neck. “You’re so incredibly warm…”

They kiss again, and this time their mouths do not part. Their tongues swirl endlessly, and Tatsuki’s hips slow down. They ram down hard still, orgasm having built enough to release. He comes deep inside of Akinori. Kissing him still, Tatsuki remains inside as his hand closes around Akinori’s penis. His wrist flicks harder and harder, and then Tatsuki’s mouth kisses Akinori’s cheeks. It’s only then that Akinori notices he’s crying. Happiness and the oncoming orgasm make him so sensitive and open, laying him bare for Tatsuki. His legs close around the larger man. Tatsuki’s mouth kisses down to his ear.

“Unless…you want me…to sit on you…” Tatsuki says, and Akinori’s eyes fly open realizing that this Tatsuki is offering up his own ass. He looks at the ceiling as shock thunders through him, never even having thought of that possibility. He squeezes Tatsuki’s hand, then shakes his head. His free arm loops fully around Tatsuki’s neck, saying thank you—

“But no thank you, I don’t think I am aahh, ready for it yet. Maybe…one day!” Akinori gasps out, and then no words come at all. Only a cry of joy, that draws into a longer ‘aaaa~’ as he comes hard in Tatsuki’s hand, and all over himself. When he’s spent, Tatsuki stops moving his hand, and puts his own dick all over Akinori’s come. There’s little he has himself to spill there. Another searing kiss murders Akinori softly, whose throat burns along with the rest of his body. Their hands stay together, and there was truly no need to let go of one another. 

Tatsuki collapses on top of him, and Akinori says a humorous “Oof!” when all of Tatsuki’s weight is once more an immovable object. The low hum over his collarbone and throat convince Akinori that this is fine, that there is nothing more he’d want than all of Tatsuki over him like a blanket. A very heavy blanket. 

“Ninth apple of my eye, please…you’re crushing me,” Akinori says, and he feels his come streak down in lines past his stomach and into his bed. His old bed. The last fun it would know. He had already ordered a bigger and sturdier bed for his new rooms. _Their_ new rooms.

Not moving away, Tatsuki nods. “Perhaps…but my love just is this heavy.” Then, after considering. “’Ninth apple of the eye’…you surely have strange expressions here.”

It’s nearly impossible to laugh but Akinori still manages.

“Don’t worry. I will teach them to you. Give it a year. You will use the same expressions as me…if only there would be anything left of me!” Akinori protests, hitting Tatsuki’s back. At last, the giant rolls off him, half. Half is all Akinori needs; his arm lies back over Tatsuki’s back, and he gently caresses the shoulder he can reach. “So there is ‘All nine tails’, which is a curse expression without being crude. Hence we only use it at court and in formal meetings. “Ninth apple of my eye” sounds weird I guess, but if the goddess has her tails a certain way, they do look like nine eyes… And then there is of course ‘Oh Akinori, my greatest love’. I do expect you to say that _often_ when we’re embracing like this.”

Tatsuki huffs a laugh, warm breath on hotter skin. He kisses Akinori. “Naturally,” he says, borrowing Akinori’s favourite word from him, after he heard Akinori say ‘of course’ for the first time ever. “Oh Akinori, my greatest love.”

Letting the slight tease slide, Akinori could get used to this. And how he would get used to this. But first he will enjoy the post-coital cuddles. Tatsuki can spoil him unlike any other person. And Tatsuki’s arms open with ease to let Akinori shuffle as close as he wants. They slot together, sliding in between each other’s. Everything about Tatsuki is heavier due to his muscle mass and longer limbs. But Akinori is not afraid. 

He plants a kiss on the bandaged letter A, feeling vain, but also protected by its sight. Tatsuki kisses the top of his crown in return, mouth staying there to speak softly into the night. His nails run over Akinori’s back. Soothing circles as his words whisper into Akinori’s hair.

“I was so afraid of how you’d react. How everyone of your court would perceive my actions… But then you put the knife’s blade onto your skin, and I felt this incredible fire deep within me. It started in my gut, crossed every organ and vein. Then it rose to my chest, flames licking at my rib cage, surrounding my heart. It was beating out of control when you carved the T onto your wrist. I was partially afraid of it…for you. Watching the blood run down your skin, I never had wanted to see something so badly, wishing at the same time to never see it again. Akinori, when you spoke…I knew for certain that this fire in me could never cease unless death douses it.”

Becoming incredibly still in that warm embrace, Akinori can’t help the tears welling up in his eyes. He releases his hand from Tatsuki’s back, wiping his face. A bit of makeup comes this time. Tatsuki’s lips are there in a moment, kissing down his forehead, his lids. When he hovers up again, there’s orange and white stains on his mouth.

“Tears on a wedding night,” he whispers, and Akinori slaps the mountain drawn in henna on the other side of Tatsuki’s chest.

“Bastard…don’t say such things.”

“I will say all the things, Akinori. You’re stuck with me now,” Tatsuki says with warmth, tipping Akinori’s chin up for a kiss. And there could be so many more words between them. But Akinori holds Tatsuki’s head in place, deepening the kiss. Swallowing the words of love and desire. To let their bodies speak instead, starting with Akinori’s hips thrusting forward. Soon their kiss becomes a mess of tongue and breathe, with their lower bodies gyrating against one another. Their cocks slide up and down over each other, building heat, breaking down the barriers of holding back. 

Akinori lets his hand run back down over the spot he slapped. Where the henna tattoo ends no is redness seen. Naturally there wouldn’t be. Tatsuki smiles.

“It will fade eventually. Unless you like the sight of it enough to not want it to.”

“Hmmm, if you like the design a couple of months later, let me know. We can have it done permanently. And I will hold your hand through the pain.”

“Very much appreciated,” Tatsuki whispers, his mouth returning to seamlessly close Akinori’s off. The heat surrounds them, making everything so much better as they slide together. Tatsuki’s hand runs under Akinori’s back, trailing the unseen tattoo resting there.

All Akinori would need to do is widen his legs, put one over Tatsuki’s hip. Or turn around, letting Tatsuki gently rock him forwards. He could just stay on his back, letting his loving husband hover over him once again. There were so many possibilities, and Akinori holds Tatsuki’s hand, fingers entwining—to make sure that same hand won’t decide what their next move is. Akinori wants to think it over, as Tatsuki’s kisses go wildly past his mouth and down to his neck. Biting, marking him. Akinori hears himself whisper into the pillow how much he belongs to Tatsuki, and Tatsuki answers into his heated skin how much he belongs to Akinori in return. 

Lust glazes over Akinori’s eyes, blurring them not with tears this time. His hands, one after the other, touch the sides of Tatsuki’s face, drawing him reluctantly away from Akinori’s nipple. Akinori’s eyes press closed as he smiles widely.

“Do that thing again…Prepare me thoroughly for this,” Akinori says, his hand on Tatsuki’s cock, stroking it. “I want to be hoarse by the time you’re done with me.”

Tatsuki kisses his chin, then his low tone sends a hundred shivers over Akinori’s body. “In which lifetime could I be done with you..?” And then he lowers himself, turns Akinori on his stomach. His mouth traces Akinori’s dips and edges, from from one side of the lower back to the other. Fingers splay, running up and over the tattoo. Tatsuki’s other hand manhandles Akinori’s knees wider. “You’re so beautiful…”

Arms and head down, Akinori closes his eyes again. He could keep listening to that voice. But given his request, Tatsuki’s head dives down. He kisses each side of Akinori’s ass first, softly and not holding back the sounds he makes. His arm is long enough to press into Akinori’s shoulder blade. Cheeky, Akinori pulls the pillow under his head for comfort. The hand doesn’t stop him. Tatsuki merely warns him.

“I want to hear you become hoarse, Aki.”

Akinori’s answer is a moan as Tatsuki’s tongue drives him insane. 

“All nine-tails...that feels so good… I am definitely getting used to this,” Akinori says, his eyes barely open, his lips merely whispering. “Aaah, Tatsuki…”

Moaning Tatsuki’s name into the pillow has Tatsuki brings his arms under Akinori’s, lifting him slightly to let his hands touch Akinori’s chest. Then the entire weight of his chest presses Akinori’s down, but Akinori doesn’t care. Dazed with lust, Akinori’s body moves on its own sluggishly. He raises his hips up, letting his rimmed ass meet Tatsuki’s penis. Smiling to himself, knowing Tatsuki can see, he lets his ass run up and down that throbbing dick. Tatsuki presses into him, not using much force. His knees slide under Akinori’s thighs, bringing the rest of Akinori down to lie completely flat. With only Tatsuki’s hips moving, he lines his cock up to Akinori’s entrance, going in ever so slowly. But then he stops.

“You’re driving me insane,” Akinori whisper-moans, his jaw staying slack and his brows creasing as Tatsuki fully remains inside of him. The top of his ear gets kissed, then bitten. Tatsuki hums appreciation down, while his hips stay unmoving on top of Akinori’s lower back. Pressed together, Tatsuki proves his willpower and restraint to remain still.

“Good…I have to repay you after all,” Tatsuki says, and Akinori’s reply dies in a groan as Tatsuki starts moving with vigour. There’s nothing slow or restrained about him. He creates the most obscene sounds slamming himself downwards into Akinori’s waiting heat. Any time that Akinori brings his hips up to meet him, to chase that dick before it slides away, Tatsuki rams him back down forcefully. He never curses nor calls him names, just groans Akinori’s name. Akinori’s toes curl with want, his hands sliding up over the mattress to find the pillow, the blanket, anything to hold onto. Instead, Tatsuki’s hands chase his, covering the backs, then fingers curl inwards. 

“You’re a tyrant, holding me down like this,” Akinori says, teasing all the way. As if there’s any part of him that doesn’t enjoy this completely. Their hands lower as one, Akinori’s elbows bending down. Tatsuki brought his chest up to get hold of Akinori’s hands; he now sinks back down, gluing them together as one being. Akinori can feel the hammering of Tatsuki’s heartbeat down his spine, that cock rocking his ass upwards. The gauze with his carved first letter hiding behind.

“You’re the one chaining me to you, fox prince,” Tatsuki replies, his words interrupted by quick in- and exhales. Akinori grins.

“Oh, mark my words; I will bring out something to tie you to this bed someday.”

Tatsuki laughs, kissing Akinori’s cheek. They’re sweaty, bodies sliding with ease over one another. But Tatsuki’s mouth stays on his ear. “You have no idea how much I am looking forward to that day.”

For now, all Akinori can do is moan out Tatsuki’s name, begging him for nothing at all, and everything at once.

*

*

Tatsuki watches Akinori with renewed hunger. He cannot help feeling possessive. There’s a part of him that feels bad about that feeling…but that part gets swallowed up by voices that say he had every right. That he couldn’t have stopped unless Akinori told him too. 

And Akinori has told him the exact opposite, all night.

Akinori makes his way over to the bed slowly. He holds onto one chair, then the bed’s edge. He sighs, his face displaying a pained expression. Tatsuki’s heart softens, letting the possessive and proud feelings fall silent. He sits up, his arms reaching to catch Akinori who falls on top of him but half off the bed. 

“Up you go,” Tatsuki says, lifting Akinori’s legs off the floor to lie him down on the bed. He looks over Akinori’s skin. It’s marked with bites, hickeys, and deep scratches. As red as the letter T standing out below his wrist. Tatsuki looks at the T now, as Akinori has covered his eyes with his arm. Their Blood Oaths have healed within the night. A miracle Akinori couldn’t believe, until Tatsuki told him that the blades were usually coated overnight in a bowl with tulip water. It was Akinori’s mother who had ordered the making of the knife. It thus fell to Tatsuki’s mother to make sure her new son-in-law would heal soon afterwards.

“I can’t go to breakfast like this…everyone will speak…”

“Let them,” Tatsuki says with a groan. He hovers over Akinori’s weak form, covering the naked body below with his own. Akinori has left plenty of revenge marks on him too. Fingers trail some of them. Of course he wouldn’t let Akinori walk out of the door if he truly was so concerned. Plus, in the afterthought…Tatsuki would be embarrassed if his family members saw Akinori like this. They would see the many marks riding up Tatsuki’s neck, too.

“You asshole…you broke me,” Akinori laughs, sleepy eyes barely opening. He brushed his teeth, took care of his hygiene. Tatsuki had been up before him, already done his morning routine. A sweet voice, open legs and a beckoning finger had called him back. Tatsuki for his part had been able to not show how much his thighs and calves struggled moving his form. He’d put so much drive and energy into their union last night…it’s as if he’d hiked a mountain for a day. All he’s done is sink himself into the valley that was Akinori, over and over and over again.

“For the record, it was you who seduced the morning sex yourself,” Tatsuki says, lips brushing over Akinori’s brows. Akinori once more slaps his chest unmarked by an A. It’s a flick against Tatsuki’s skin. His hand goes down between Akinori’s leg, pinching the inside of Akinori’s thigh.

“Gehh!” his prince gasps.

“I am deeply sorry,” Tatsuki says, meaning it half-hearted. He kisses Akinori’s armpit, up to the upper arm, to the lower arm where his letter stands out starkly like the other marks across Akinori’s body. Akinori huffs at the part of Tatsuki that wasn’t so sincere. To make a point, Akinori brushes his thigh against Tatsuki’s semi-hard penis to lie heavy on that beautiful skin.

Tatsuki hugs Akinori to himself, then flips them the other way around. Akinori’s body is a languid beast in disguise; the way his thighs straddle Tatsuki, the lighter toned arms lying onto Tatsuki’s more muscled ones. And that perfect body slotting over his. Akinori wasn’t as lithe or as weak as he had pretended to be before. And he could still move his hips forward and back. Tatsuki soothes Akinori exposed back, feeling his teeth marks there. Knowing now intimately the lines of the tattoo inked into it.

“You’re sooo sorry,” Akinori says, his own hard penis sliding beside Tatsuki’s. Their testicles slide over one another too. Tatsuki brings his thumb down the lower back in circling motions. He bruised the hips on the other side; last night, and this morning again when he had Akinori from behind.

“Hey, I remember you begging me to go faster, deeper, and keep going,” Tatsuki counters, and at once Akinori’s lips are on top of his. They open their mouths, deepening the kiss. Together they become still; Akinori halts his hips, and Tatsuki’s hands lie now flat on top of that perfect ass. He went wild in there last night, maybe. But Akinori loved it, every second. Their lips part with a wet sound. Tatsuki looks up into those eyes that could mesmerize him for days. “And you explicitly wanted me to do that all over again, moments ago.”

Akinori sighs, then nods his head.

“You’re right, you’re right…I just can’t resist you, I guess,” Akinori says, sitting up. His ass falls into Tatsuki’s waiting hands, who guides Akinori to go down on his penis. They groan a little, their bodies tired. And yet, Akinori shows how strong he truly is, as he slowly rides Tatsuki. He’s heavy in Tatsuki’s lap, his tall posture so beautiful to watch. Tatsuki blinks slowly, unable to believe that all of this is his to keep. His hands roam, one after the other, over Akinori’s sides, gliding over the chest, the stomach, the arms, back to the already bruised hips. Tatsuki looks down at them now, also noticing Akinori’s hard penis twitching up, then lying down again on Tatsuki’s stomach, leaking precum over him.

Tatsuki’s hands soothe the hips gently. “I am sorry if you’re in pain, Akinori. I truly am.”

Smiling, Akinori hums pleasure, thrums it down to his chest as he moans deeply. He doesn’t stop moving. His own hands roam Tatsuki’s chest. One lies flat over the mountains covering one pec, the other lowers to where the Vixen’s sharp nails are. Their rhythm deepens without becoming faster.

“It’s all good, as long as you’re there to catch me and hold me. You did warn me of pleasurable pain…If I didn’t enjoy it…I wouldn’t come back for more,” Akinori sighs as his voice becomes a whisper. He closes his eyes, letting his hips speak for themselves as he moves them forward and back. Tatsuki sinks himself up into the heat, hips thrusting a little faster—he does all he can to not disturb Akinori’s pace though. He squeezes that ass wide, then closes it over his cock again.

Akinori continues all the way down without stopping, kissing Tatsuki lazily. Retracing some of the marks made at the throat. He nibbles more and more, only interrupted by moaning out Tatsuki’s name. Tatsuki lets one arm loop around Akinori’s curved spine, keeping him close. 

“I love you, Aki. I will always love you.”

Akinori smiles, his brows then creasing when Tatsuki’s cock hits a spot inside of him. “I love you too, Tatsu.”

*

*

They do not leave the bed once, except for when Akinori sends Tatsuki to unlock the doors. No one misses them or requests their presence. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner is brought into their rooms. The servants leave without looking at the pair hiding under the covers. Well, as much hiding as Akinori manages to pull off whenever they come in; his body half lies on top of Tatsuki’s, legs spread over his stomach. There’s a blanket to cover him up, but most of them can be seen. Tatsuki doesn’t care, because Akinori doesn’t; he wants to show off after all. Tatsuki lies down with ease in such moments. He has his hand under his head, his elbow struck out. He caresses Akinori’s back, relaxed and fully sated.

It’s all his. And he keeps adding marks, or deepening previously made ones. All his.

Akinori kisses his chest each time the servants leave. “Honey, be a dear and feed your prince? I’m _famished_.”

The words are followed by kisses tracing down Tatsuki’s hard abs, licking the hard lines hungrily. And the words are empty, as Akinori keeps feasting on him as a dessert before the meal. And Tatsuki comes, again and again and again, into that waiting wet heat. Once Akinori is done he lies down, humming and waiting, and Tatsuki manages to detach his back from the bed. It's dirty beyond repair. And he’d get his thighs to move, his feet to carry him to the trays left for them. He rolls the carts closer to the bed, where Akinori sits up and stretches. 

Happy beyond a doubt, satisfied from top to bottom. Tatsuki smiles, sitting his naked body next to Akinori’s as they feed each other. Lunch becomes a mess, because Akinori smears food more onto Tatsuki; to lick it clean, of course. He drops hot food on Tatsuki’s thighs, chases wine off there too with his tongue. When Tatsuki has enough, he makes Akinori lie down, become a platter. Tatsuki puts half his lunch there, to eat it from Akinori’s trembling, laughing body. Ending with a wine-stained kiss, to just sink between those legs. Over and over, until they’re hungry for food again.

That night they rest early. Before the sun is even down, Tatsuki closes his eyes. He has Akinori’s weight lying once more over half his body. But they’re both spent. There’s nothing more to give, and nothing more _has_ to be given. They have a lifetime together, to spend as they please.

“I love you so much, Tatsu,” Akinori says, and Tatsuki barely hears his own sleepy response as he falls asleep.

*

*

On the second night of being a married man, Tatsuki wakes. He lies still for a moment, stretching muscles in his body. Akinori lies on his stomach beside him, head turned away. Tatsuki’s knuckles run over the length of his back, smiling to himself each time he sees the tattoo now surrounded by lovemarks. It’s still in the middle of the night. Unlike in the mountains where it's never truly dark if one’s window faces the way the sun comes up, the valley here gets darkest before dawn. There’s many differences, Tatsuki guesses.

Uncaring for what woke him, Tatsuki attempts to close his eyes and go back to sleep. 

There’s lights outside, however. An orange glowing hue beckons him to the window. He heaves his body out of bed, letting Akinori’s stray arm rest on top where Tatsuki was. Crossing the room, Tatsuki picks up a dark grey piece of underwear and slips into it. As he does, he watches as a golden-orange glow becomes more and more visible. When he’s at the window, his feet stop abruptly. Blinking, his mind cannot understand what he sees. His heart skips, as the curtain of the room blows outside, where a giant fox woman stands, her pointy ears flickering high; she is as tall as the palace. Tatsuki looks up, her orange glow cascading down like pollen down the waterfalls. The clothes she wears are unlike any Tatsuki has ever seen; there’s layers and stray cloth, always folded one way over the other. A multitude of colours. A string of chrysanthemum flowers float around her forehead and behind, like a hovering crown. Long sleeves open wide around the wrists. Her pants billow, and below Tatsuki sees fox feet, with long toenails. 

A breeze whips, thunder cracks. The goddess’ nine tails whirl around. She looks at him directly, standing completely still otherwise. 

Down below at a gate, Tatsuki notices a guard. The guard, either feeling watched or hearing the curtains whip back inside, looks up to him, through the veil of orange golden light.

“Fine night, isn’t it, Prince-consort Washio?”

The reply comes as a curt nod. All Tatsuki can manage. The guard grips his spear tighter, looks ahead. Straight at the goddess without seeing her. Or does he…

Tatsuki’s eyes flicker back at the Vixen, who smirks at him. The inspiration for Akinori’s makeup is evident on her face, as red lines cross it and enhance her natural features. He sees the resemblance with the Queen and daughters, and that gleeful glint in the eyes that Akinori has too. Tatsuki wonders if this is real, if he’s dreaming. In his head he hears the answer, an echo of nothing preceding the words bouncing off the inside of his skull. _**‘Yes it is, and no you are not, wedded-in-prince of this Queendom.’**_

Her eyes never blink. Tatsuki swallows, then tries his best at the bows he’s seen the line of Chrysanthemum do. He hears the slash of a tail through the air, a boom behind the palace as thunder rolls in its wake. Tatsuki looks up again, not sure if he should say anything. If he’s capable of stringing together sentences. The goddess smiles, warmly this time. The family resemblance makes him feel a little more at ease. He sees in her smile reflected Queen Konoha, how it reaches the eyes like with the daughters. Akinori is somewhere in that smile too, when he knows something Tatsuki does not.

The goddess raises an arm, a lone finger nail reaches for him. It hovers over his chest, and the voice whispers _**‘Ahhhh, yes. A bond once thought lost. Fate has a funny way of bringing it together, stronger and more fearsome than even the friendship of deities’**_. The finger rises up, coming closer to his head. Tatsuki’s mind stays with Akinori; with the man sleeping at peace behind him. He doesn’t move nor shy away from the touch that comes to his forehead. He doesn’t look up again, not wanting to challenge a goddess. He only notices that the tails come to an abrupt halt. His heart beats faster, louder. In his mind, images flicker in and out, interrupted by darkness. They speed up too, like someone is looking through his memories, searching. No, not his memories.

A shadowed domed place, grey granite carved smooth. A golden cup standing on a raised pedestal. In it—

The goddess bends over the caved in roof. She soothes a woman who cries in pain. From a broken cabinet, the goddess reaches for a rust-stained cup meant for humans. Holding it between sharp fingernails, it turns a brilliant gold.

The fields at harvest, the dancers in a circle, round and round they go, praising the goddess, the queen, the daughters. 

Tears flicker off the lashes of the goddess, into the tiny golden cup resting under her cheek. There’s already blood inside, swirling in a circle, with the clock, then against it.

The petals rise up to the skies, prayers whispered on the wind. They rise from the fields, from the cup and back down into it, becoming rain, hail, snow, seeds. The earth here is always nurtured, never forgotten. The goddess hears the prayer of a son, the first son born from her line. And she finds him worthy of love because he is deserving of his mother’s love, his sisters. But he is a boy, and therefore not strong enough, not good enough. They can’t ever be king. They can’t ever have gifts. They shan’t ever share her blood.

The golden cup on the pedestal comes closer, the view bending over it to peer inside. 

The nine tails swoosh against the dark skies. Incoming arrows diminish like fireflies’ glow dying. Entire catapults collapse. Thunder rumbles lowly, lightning crackles. The goddess picks a flower from her hair, where a small human-made chrysanthemum flower crown holds together a strand of her hair like an accessory hair bead. A gift to her, a wish for safe birth. She crumbles the petals into the cup, then reaches her hand down with the now filled cup inside. Completed, to be consumed.

The cup glimmers in the dark, a shining beacon of hope, the promises of thousands of years. Unbroken by continued prayer of all the souls that have already passed.

A voice as deep as the silence of the forest breaks through all the images, as the prayers continue. Dark wings fly over past, having promised aid, always. The dead that are gone will become one with the fields, one with the flowers.

The Vixen runs through the fields, leveling enemies of her state—her nation. She needs a human presence to rule. Her people call her, and she will never not answer the wish of help from a woman. Her nine-tails strike fear. They swirl—with the clock, and against it.

_**“Every queen shall give and add, to strengthen the tonic. Tears, blood, and the petals that will return to grow in the fields of old. Before the birth of a child, any child, drink from this cup, for today, for the everlasting peace. Strength through unity, created in the womb. A line as long as love.”**_

The cup is now in bird’s view, Tatsuki sees the ripple, the ringing of prayer, the song of a people dancing in the fields, around them. A hundred colours, bright and golden. They pray for protection, for enemy states swear to burn their fields. When only their goddess is allowed to destroy and create.

A deep ringing noise from the golden cup’s mouth. In it the petals swirl, in a concoction that smells of salt and iron.

The woman in the caved-in house drinks. Her lips stain red, a petal resting atop her lip.

Will my daughter be strong?”

 _ **“Every daughter of my line will be,”** _The Vixen replies, snapping her fingers to rebuild from this broken cabin a palace strong enough to withstand the ages. The wood lifts, becoming white marble. Dust rises, to form windows. Air will flow through this building, in which her line will rule forever. 

“And what if...a boy comes?” The fox goddess hates men, it was known within the valley where her storms hit.

 _ **“Not many sons will be allowed. Perhaps none at all. If one comes...chaos will too. Only for a bit, only to herald the sadness of not another daughter.”**_

Queen Konoha holds the cup in one hand, holds a little baby in the crook of her other arm. Her blood stained lips kiss the blond crown, crying upon it. A single petal rises from the cup, falls down again. A ripple. A prayer. A dance.

“Akinori, fourth child of mine, son of autumn. You made your father faint, dear boy. And I hear outside the storms unleashing upon the lands. Ah, sweet first-born daughter of mine, pass me the knife. I have already cried. Yes, now the petals? Good. Please return the cup to it’s holy place,” the queen says, and the cup changes hands, coming from daylight to a dark and stony hallway. It is placed back upon the pedestal. Shikika sings an apology to the goddess, as the blood, tears, and petals within the cup were consumed for nothing.

The goddess laughs. For a son was born who will give her joy of trickery, and plenty of prayers to honour her name and her lands. And he will enamour a boy who will pray to her as well, despite not being from the valley, nor having grown up to the sweet smell of chrysanthemum flowers.

Back in the room, Tatsuki sees the fox goddess, then he doesn’t see her that well anymore. His vision blurs, as tears run down his face. _She_ blurs. The facial features he recognized in all the Konoha family, now become more fox-like. A white mask, the royal line’s makeup—drawn for war, for love, for prayer. Blood red lips, eyelashes made of elongated petals. Flowing, turning. And behind her, the nine tails sway trance-like left to right, waving the white tips side to side endlessly. With the clock, and against it. 

Tatsuki hears the crackle of thunder, and then the start of soft rains. He sees once more the fields, glowing golden, strengthening. The best harvest known to the Queendom, after the very first son was born. The broken shack gone, replaced by a city of white and a gorgeous palace at its center pride. 

The tall goddess dances with the people in the fields. Her presence less and less as her people know peace. 

The swirling of petals. In the wind, above the fields, in the cup.

 _ **“Do not ever forget the fields, my first queen. For the crown you made me, I shall give life back to you,”**_ the goddess says, and she blinks. The circling children in a field, a young woman not yet pregnant picking up a flower, then whispers in the wind. A prayer; not the first and never the last. Hoping for better days, to the end of wars, to a good child growing inside of her. For a daughter, the first of many. 

In the cup, the petals run in circles, some going with the clock, others against. Circles upon circles, like a tree and its rings. Hypnotizing—

_**“I shall name you queen. And so will be your daughter once your reign ends. As will her daughter, and all the first daughters to come. Queens and princesses will rule this land, with kindness, control, and diplomacy. We sway with the winds, we do not fear the storms. For I am a daughter of the 9 catastrophes, and I will always be by your side.”** _

Tatsuki blinks, and he’s back in the white room, his feet cold against the warm marble. Tears have dried upon his warm cheeks. His forehead burns, and he traces his fingers over it. The orange glow is gone, but the marble under him and at the window sill is warm with it. The rain falls softly, a pitter-patter that doesn’t come inside. The guard from earlier raises one palm up to the skies. His eyes are closed and he’s smiling, his face towards the downfall. Tatsuki turns away from him, not seeing any trace of the goddess where she stood. He wants to go back to bed and hug Akinori, but he doesn’t think he’ll sleep anytime soon. As he turns, Akinori wakes. 

Tatsuki watches him rise on his forehead, shakes his head, then turns to him. For a moment, Tatsuki wonders if he too is a dream. Akinori’s eyes show sleep, and Tatsuki guesses he’d fall towards the cushions again and sleep gently on; but Akinori’s eyes rise to Tatsuki’s forehead, a smile forming on his lips.

“Ah, the mark,” Akinori smiles, then rolls over to sit on the bed’s edge. His slowly waking up face betrays nothing. “What did she show you?”

With strength returning to his muscles, Tatsuki goes to the bed. He wasn’t as vain as to first check the mirror and see the mark the touch made. The mattress dips under his weight when he sits on it. Akinori’s warmth is all he needs; hands running under his arms, over his chest. The pointy chin dipping into his shoulder, and Akinori’s chest close to his. Akinori hand gathers Tatsuki’s hand in his. Tatsuki works his mouth and throat, then says a single word.

“Cup.” He turns his head ever so slightly to see the reaction; Akinori’s eyes widen, a visible chill running over his arms. Tatsuki continues. “The cup turned gold in her hands, she held it to her cheek. There were…chrysanthemum fields, people praying by dancing in circles. A woman picking a flower—making a flower crown. Then the same woman, a little older, lying in a broken house giving birth. The goddess…she’s so tall. I saw her, Akinori. She is as tall as this palace…but perhaps you knew that already. Her tails were…I cannot describe it,” Tatsuki stammers, looking at his knees. He doesn’t have to; surely Akinori knows. “She listed the ingredients, when to drink, to always add on. And the woman was made queen, in the midst of giving birth and a war raging around her. I saw the cup in…a dark room with smooth grey walls, on a pedestal. The ingredients were so fragrant. The circles…”

“With the clock, against it, rings upon rings swirling in different directions,” Akinori whispers, his earlier shocked silence overrun by a wide grin. His knees slide over the bed, his feet coming down next where Tatsuki’s are. Akinori turns to him, places one hand on Tatsuki’s jaw. Words form on that perfect mouth, things Akinori wants to say; but they get lost with a shake of his head. Words unspoken drift away. He kisses Tatsuki, and that gleeful smile stretches his cheeks upwards, just like the goddess’ smile. 

Tatsuki returns the hand gesture, his eyes closing. “I saw you in your mother’s arms after your birth. Shikika took the cup away and I saw where it was. I...that was so much for a single being to know.”

Akinori’s nails run across Tatsuki’s jaw, up to his temples and into his hair. He whisper-teases, “Come back to bed.”

They don’t sleep. Tatsuki doesn’t tire, and Akinori is a gentle lover who lets him lie on his back most of the time. Akinori’s hands work over his chest, fingers always trailing to that letter A Tatsuki carved there. Pleasure and gratitude become one in their kisses. Akinori swirls his hips extra tonight, with the clock and against it. The notion isn’t lost on Tatsuki. His hands might stray to those lustful hips, but he never attempts to still them or break them. He’s even careful not to bruise them this time. The heat of the room and the sweat of their backs cools off, then returns. Over and over again.

It slowly becomes morning. Akinori holds his hand tightly in his. His face sleepy once more, a lasting smile stretches from side to side as he looks at Tatsuki. Akinori explains the proper order of things. Tatsuki has read a few things about the people of the valley before it became a queendom. How their lands were threatened, as older flower kingdoms wanted to spread their own lands. Level the field of existing flowers to plant their own. The goddess never let it happen. And once the Petal Wars were over, and her Queendom ruled strong, she appeared less and less. 

Tatsuki listens to Akinori’s soothing voice. They have turned face to face, leaving kisses on arms and shoulders and chest and foreheads. Tatsuki doesn’t think he’ll ever tire from kissing every inch of Akinori there is. Lying side by side on the same pillow, Tatsuki enjoys their silences. He has found peace with the new knowledge he has now. And with his body safely kept within Akinori’s space, he wonders out loud what others see.

“I didn’t mention this before because I figured there were other things to do and explain but… Tatsuki, not even every king sees what you saw. My father has seen parts of it, but mostly the history of the first King. _Very_ few see as much as you were shown…The cup is our holiest relic. Only members of the family are allowed to know its whereabouts. _Only_ those wedded into our family, who have seen it in goddess’ given vision are allowed to know and see it for themselves.”

Tatsuki curls his hand around Akinori’s, kissing the fingers. The pride comes off Akinori in waves. Even if sons were less important here, and even if he was the last son born into his house…the goddess had deemed him this worthy of the greatest secret. Was it because he prayed before marrying in? He doesn’t know, for a human could never know a god’s way. 

There’s a secret in Tatsuki’s heart, too. He wants to tell it…but he doesn’t want to dampen Akinori’s happy moment. There would be a time and place to share the greatest secrets of the mountain-lands, soon enough.

“Does only the first daughter, once she’s queen, drink from it?”

Akinori nods. “To let anyone else drink, say, one of my sisters, would show greed and hunger. No one has ever tried. The gifts the goddess gave our female line are holy, the blood she breathed into our—into the wombs of my ancestors, it is sacred. To want more would mean the end.”

“Do only men…the ones who marry into your line, get the visits?”

Akinori smiles. “We had a fair share of princesses and regent-consorts in our time. Upon the second wedding night, or the second week or second month, the goddess will deign to visit. Upon her sight, whatever the consort thinks of, their thoughts, will determine how much they’re shown, if anything important at all. Some see books, others the future, others again are taken on a bird’s view across the kingdom. Tales or songs, or silence accompanies them. Loose words or prayers. It’s the goddess' decision to tell our history as she sees fit, to let those outside the bloodline be part of it as they need to be. None of us would ever tell it like she can. To see where the cup is…”

Akinori shakes his head as if he still can’t believe it. He starts to lie on his back, looks up to the ceiling. Tatsuki looks at the chest, seeing an even more comfortable pillow option for his head there. He snuggles close, letting his long limbs run over Akinori without any demands. He just wants to be skin to skin with his new husband, their warmth not always needing to grow epic forest fire proportions. Tatsuki’s head finds the perfect spot to rest, and he’s granted a head scratch as Akinori’s other arm holds his.

“My father knows of what's inside the relic, but not where it is. I will take you there. You earned the right after all. Soon!” Akinori promises, kisses his forehead “I cannot wait to tell my sisters. Oh and, mother. She will be so proud!”

Tatsuki hums. At this point, Akinori could take his hand, tell him they’d jump off a cliff into icy water, and Tatsuki would follow that voice and smile with eagerness. Into the dark, into the void, and into the fires themselves. With Akinori so warm and with his own strengths, Tatsuki thinks they’d be more than capable of facing the world together. Marriage would be their own little adventure. Breathing out, Tatsuki waits for sleep to take him under.

*

*

The morning after the second night, Akinori manages to not offend Tatsuki’s family by asking for a separate breakfast; the Konoha family with their newest in-law, sans any other wedded-ins. No advisors or servants would be present. Akinori’s mother had assured the other king and queen that there was a special reason for Akinori’s request, and that he meant no harm. Not even Akinori’s father would be present, and he gladly joined the Washio breakfast table. To at least appease them, and explain the goddess’ visit to married-into members of the household.

Tatsuki had no idea how quick Akinori wanted to tell his sisters. Akinori felt himself to have had a lot of restraint in not bursting into their rooms before dawn to let them know. Sitting down side by side, Akinori rasps his throat. When he tells his family what the goddess showed Tatsuki the previous night, several cutleries drop down with a clank. Eyes widen, and the jaws keep on dropping the more Akinori reveals. Before he’s even done, they make Tatsuki continue. Haruka shouts. 

“I mean, I wondered about the palace’s integrity if a war would come. But I have seen that your goddess made it strong from just the broken cabin. It was a beautiful sight. I wish I’d seen more of the building process, if I am honest.”

Akinori’s mother just shakes her head. She’s been crying since the start. Tatsuki’s eyes sway away whenever tears are upon the female line.

Poor Tatsuki. Akinori should have prepared him better. He had no clue after all, why Akinori arranged for this special meeting. He was also not prepared for the bear hug, the rarest of all, Akinori’s mother bestowed him. He was a big guy and could take it, Akinori laughs, receiving congratulations from Shikika. Her husband was shown many things too, but this grand a vision of their history and holiest of secrets… The birth of the first daughter, and the last son.

As his mother releases Tatsuki from her grip, she sits down, waving a fan into her face. “My, my…I didn’t know what I was expecting but certainly not this! Akinori, my dear. Give the word and I shall escort you and Tatsuki myself to the foxacombs.”

To this, Tatsuki finds back his speech. “…Ah, you don’t say catacombs because—”

“Cats!” Say all the sisters as one, then make faces, shaking their hands.

Shikika laughs. “We’re perfectly aware, Tatsuki. It’s just that one word we mangled to fit our fancies. It’s sooo beautiful down there, you will see! Very sad we can’t show everyone, of course.”

“The stones are all carved fox-like, too,” Haruka explains, as it is clear that Tatsuki didn’t see all of it. Just the pedestal and the way to it. Akinori interferes so that his sisters won’t take too much away from Tatsuki’s first impression. He feels Tatsuki’s hand curl around his upon Akinori’s thigh, soothing his temper. Tatsuki kisses his cheek for good measure too. 

*

*

A week passes. Presents fill up the corridor where the Washio family had been guests; they’re placed daily right in front of Tatsuki’s old chambers, in which he and Akinori sometimes stay. Akinori isn’t present for most of them, nor does he stop anything. He’s too busy deciding on the final colour scheme of their new quarters. Changing it every day.

The queen, upon giving one gift, finds others that she deems better to shower Tatsuki with. Shikika takes Tatsuki to the royal outfitter, to fill his wardrobes with even more fashions. Haruka finds new weapons for Tatsuki to try, as if she wants him to become a master of all like she is. Each sister heaps gifts upon gifts onto Tatsuki, who isn’t allowed to say no. 

The youngest winks at him. “You were already special to us for seeing how great Akinori is for yourself. For our goddess, our highest order, to deem you worthy above so many others…Well, we will not be outmatched by her!” And Tatsuki can only watch as Fuyuko runs away to bring him new gifts. Kyuuko too somehow manages to shed feathers for him, and instructs him telepathically to fashion himself a crown.

Tatsuki finds his life at the palace agreeable. And yet he’s still sad when one after the other, his family leaves. His mother and Prince Tetsuya had left first, on the eve of the third day. 

Onaga and his battle goat left as well, with Takafumi; Tatsuki’s brother was a bit slighted when the palace was mostly sorry to see the magnificent and strong goat leave. Even the guards bow their heads when she passes. Onaga now carries home a collection of flower crowns in multiple colours and for different occasions; court presents to his Lisa, who somehow doesn’t eat them. Poor Onaga, who was sheepish when Haruka said her goodbyes to them both.

“Give me a week. I will fashion her the most brilliant armour and send it your way,” Haruka was seen weeping, as the battle goat ate part of her dress. “Stay strong, you magnificent goatess! I agree my dress looks more rugged this way, thank you.”

The brothers left at random, having forsaken rhyme and reason in the order of their departure. Tatsuki’s father had made it clear that he wanted to go home last and stay with Tatsuki the longest. 

When he leaves, Queen Konoha allows the exit to be as silent as Tatsuki’s father requested it. He didn’t want any trumpets or people waving goodbye, as he said it was a sad day. Tatsuki would be the only remaining person from the house of Tulips to stay here. He was glad that Akinori was never leaving his side, even as King Tetsuya says his goodbyes.

“Be good. You and your husband as well as our new side of our family…you’re always welcome in our home,” King Tetsuya says, his hand heavy on Tatsuki’s neck and shoulder joint. Tatsuki nods once. He doesn’t feel like crying, but the cold in his chest might stay there for a bit. His father smiles, and Tatsuki notices moisture in those stern eyes. “I am sure you will be happy here.”

Tatsuki doesn’t have to turn around to know that the entire Konoha clan would pump their chests up with a face of ‘naturally he will!’ He smiles, getting pulled into his father’s forehead. Closing his eyes, Tatsuki doesn’t open them until he hears the carriage door shut close. Behind the Tulip banner, his father is just an outline. His smile and sadness are the last thing on Tatsuki’s mind. He bows as the carriage starts off, whispering—

“Until our paths cross once more,” he says, feeling Akinori’s hand run over his spine, up his shoulder. Tatsuki straightens out into that touch, his own hand falling on top of Akinori’s. He watches the carriage roll on until his father is out of sight. Akinori comes to stand right beside him, his other hand holding Tatsuki’s elbow. 

“You will be happy here, naturally. I can assure you that I am a very attentive lover,” Akinori whispers so that his family won’t hear. Tatsuki huffs a smile. He glances over the white marble, to the sentries returning to their stations. He hears footsteps going up the steps behind him, people returning to the palace in a murmur of enjoyment and how much fun the whole experience has been. Rintarou and Motoya leaving with Komi and Sarukui; separate duos that have now become a quartet. 

Tatsuki feels no haste to leave, even with Akinori’s promises resting between them. He turns to him then, kissing his temple. Watching that fox smile stay muted, adjusting to the mood. There’s no doubt in Akinori’s eyes, no worry. 

“Thankfully I found myself such a good husband to share the rest of my life with.”

*

*

Akinori’s day to day life used to have many activities. He’s still doing all sorts of things, but now he has a man’s arm wrapped around his. He loves showing Tatsuki around, having everyone’s eyes on them. The palace greets Tatsuki with renewed respect, calling him ‘prince-consort’ or ‘prince Tatsuki’. Tatsuki asks questions when they pass portraits, or when he notices certain perceived weaknesses in structures. The latter is a tease, Akinori knows. For Tatsuki has seen who built this palace.

Sometimes Suna and Komori are with him, trailing behind the couple and seeing the same things as Tatsuki, or get told by Komori and Yamato how things truly are. But more often than not, the four of them either stay behind or walk up ahead, giving Tatsuki and Akinori their privacy. 

More often than not, Akinori shows Tatsuki new nooks and crannies they can hide in to make out real fast.

As if they do not have a perfect new roomy area for themselves to hide in all day. And Akinori adores the new space allocated to them, once he was able to finally decide on the colour scheme. Together with Tatsuki’s input, they designed it just to their liking. Only the floor is white, while they cover the walls in tapestries and drapes. To fit Tatsuki’s mood and old home, Akinori allows partial darker tones to one side where less windows are. Komori and Suna are on one side, having full freedom to make their new quarters the way they want to. Akinori didn’t deny them the amount of black there, or how Komori brought green accents and even a bird with him. Akinori stared at the amount of thick tapestries on the wall the boys shared with the newly-weds’ new rooms.

Tatsuki whispers in his ear, “It’s just smart interior design. Take no offense.”

Akinori huffs. After all, the wall that had their four-poster bed stood towards where Yamato and Haruki's quarters were on the other side. _They_ had not covered their walls as much as possible to damp any incoming sounds. To find peace with it, Akinori only has to look at the dark wood case in his chamber with Tatsuki, with the unbreakable glass door. A large white tulip rests within rocks and pebbles, under which soil rests. At once he eases into Tatsuki’s embrace.

Once their rooms are mostly filled, with all of Tatsuki’s old and new belongings having a place together with Akinori’s, one corner is left completely free. His mother had asked him to, and just a few days after the moving-in is finished, the reason why becomes apparent. Workers bring in two large slabs of wood, and then eight legs to hold them. His mother gives them two large desks facing each other for whatever writing activities or other things you could do on them. She also promises Tatsuki that is the last present from the female line, to which he sighs happily.

He grunts however, when Akinori produces a clear bowl with a single branch in it, to put it on his own desk first thing.

“Are you still keeping that...I thought you had it in your room prior only to mock me and make me feel bad.”

Akinori sticks out his tongue. “I will definitely not throw away your first present to me! The only thing I could physically keep. Don’t worry! I will add flowers from the next harvest there.”

Naturally, Akinori has to consecrate the top of his desk with sex, sweat, and wine. The door behind him has hardly closed as the workers left, and Akinori has already jumped to sit on top of his own side. Tatsuki wanted his desk in a darker corner, his back to the wall. Akinori doesn’t mind what was behind him when he sits down, liking the backdrop of shadows and draperies when Tatsuki tests out sitting behind his desk. But that’s not where he wants Tatsuki right now. 

Putting his feet on the armrests of his chair, he turns his chin over to his shoulder. “Tatsukiii,” he sing-songs, watching Tatsuki’s hands roam the dark wood of his own desk. Tatsuki looks up, eyes sharp. The corner of his mouth stretches up slightly. He cannot see Akinori’s feet on the armrests, and yet he disappears below the desks, to crawl into Akinori’s chair. He turns and twists, his hands on top of Akinori as he pushes himself up to sit. One of Akinori’s eyebrows goes up.

“My my, you are flexible if you want to be, hmm?” Akinori says, not distracted by Tatsuki’s fingers running up under his pant legs, touching his ankles.

“I can be many things if the situation demands it,” Tatsuki says, bringing one of Akinori’s ankles to his lips. Akinori’s eyes roll backward, laughter running in a low tone over his half-open lips. With his free foot, he pushes Tatsuki’s shoulder not bearing the blood oath backwards into the chair.

“Well, there’s no situation at hand that needs your attention. Only a prince wanting anything you are willing to give.”

On that note, Tatsuki’s hands run up the outer sides of Akinori’s thighs. He takes hold of the pants, pushing them down. Usually, Akinori and he would wear belts or more fitting pants. Lately, they looked for easy pull-away clothes. It was just impossible to keep one’s hands to oneself, Akinori muses. Pressing his hands down into the slab of wood below him, he pushes his hips up to let Tatsuki remove his clothes. Those warm hands place themselves back on Akinori’s thighs, and before he could even blink, Tatsuki’s mouth kisses the insides of his thighs. He works himself slowly to Akinori’s center, whose penis hardens at the ministrations. Akinori’s hand runs through the thick black hair, pulling it whatever way he pleases. He likes Tatsuki’s side profile, and he looks for that angle when he makes Tatsuki kiss the side of his girth.

Tatsuki’s tongue licks under the base, then upwards to the side. Akinori sighs out happily, not yet sure if he should undress himself or not. First however, he will get Tatsuki’s top clothes off him. He likes to watch those muscles work, especially the ones in the shoulders and back. Dropping the fabrics aside, Akinori leans back on his hands, watching Tatsuki consume him; he hovers over him like a beast, and Akinori’s pleasure rises not just by sinking himself deeper into Tatsuki’s mouth. He eyes those shoulder blades, rising at the same time that Tatsuki’s head dips down to take him in as far as he can. Akinori’s fingers scratch his scalp sweetly.

“You’ve gotten so good at this…” Akinori says, enjoying the humming murmur around his penis. Tatsuki’s tongue does wonders on the underside of his penis. Soon, Akinori sinks to his elbows, eyes up to the ceiling before they close in pleasure. He marvels at how perfect their desk positions are for real, as his head lies down on Tatsuki’s desktop. Lying down completely, Tatsuki brings Akinori’s knees up, holding them firmly as his mouth kisses down Akinori’s penis, lower and lower. To kiss him more intimately and deeper. Akinori moans out loud, quietly happy that Tatsuki’s friends had the foresight to make their side of the wall thicker and more sound-proof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I came up with most of the goddess stuff in one go, then figured I could add smth about Akinori's birth?? Idk I thought it was cute TT it's a veeeryyyyy long sequence in which time goes back and forth and Tatsuki is taking from one flash to the next. It's very chaotic and the only way I felt was appropriate!
> 
> It was also one of my fave lore dumps; showing the first queen as a girl, dancing with her people (this wasn't explicitely said so but kndkasndkl)


	8. The life of the petal princes...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The now married couple enjoys their honeymoon. Tatsuki has one more secret to tell.
> 
> Soon the spring of courtship turns into a summer of love. At it's end is a celebration, and Akinori making sure the summer stays hot all the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were a lot of scenes in here (let me cough 'the erotic stuff' at you) that took me forever to get to. I actually had the majority of ch. 9 finished (when that was still ch. 7. My editing process added 30k basically).
> 
> Loooveeed writing the honeymoon stuff~ and then the ride back (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ 
> 
> PS as a note to some of the sexy stuff in this chapter: there's a part at the end where there's playing around with super super supeeer light bondage. They use very soft fabrics too. There's also a very light mention of taking someone's breath, but its really minor and doesn't go hard at all~

Tatsuki believes this is one of the best differences between their realms. He wears ‘glasses’ that are called ‘shades’, shielding him from the sun. There’s a ring of flowers going from his neck to his chest, with the colours and creation marking him as a married person. They put a more round and firm ring of flowers on top of his and Akinori’s head. Tatsuki was in two minds about this latter accessory piece. After all, he’s seen it on the fox goddess. But then it was also a present to Onaga’s goat… But Akinori had made them both one and worn his right away, so Tatsuki couldn’t say no. What’s even weirder however, is that he wears a flimsy fabric, colourful and light; ‘swim shorts’. His tongue took several tries to pronounce these new words correctly.

Tatsuki remembers Akinori’s face when Tatsuki told him that in the mountains, the water pools are sometimes very cold or very hot, and they’d always swim in them naked. 

But he could get used to this. A ‘honeymoon’; his legs and feet are getting massaged. Next to him, Akinori is lying flat on his stomach, murmuring pleasantries as he’s getting a neck massage. The masseurs don’t blink an eyelash at how their bodies look. It’s been two weeks since they promised each other a lifetime together. Some at court argued that the way Akinori spent it, that too could have been a honeymoon. But his father wanted Tatsuki to see some of the country life and sent them to a resort close to a river.

They only brought along Sarukui and Motoya; Rintarou couldn’t be bribed into going after hearing what a ‘resort’ was and entailed. And Komi stayed with Suna to keep him company. The two attendants also wore glasses to shield them from the sun, enjoying cocktails at the riverside.

Tatsuki looks through the shaded glasses at the beautiful scenery. There were other people too, not all of them on a ‘honeymoon’. No one paid them any mind; only at the beginning were they regarded with looks, as the princes arrived at the resort. Tatsuki lets his finger go over Akinori’s arm, getting his attention.

“Say, what would stop us from living here?”

“Hah,” Akinori huffs, one cheek down. “Everyone says it. There’s such a thing as being too loose and relaxed.”

On that, Tatsuki lowers his shades, waiting for Akinori’s eyes to open and see him stare. Akinori’s ears redden, and he lifts his arm towards Tatsuki to give him a one-fingered sign. Tatsuki had learned that this was a very rude gesture, never to be repeated in public. He catches Akinori’s hand before it tries to retreat, and kisses the middle finger stuck out to him before. Akinori softens, and they hold hands between the massage tables.

They have spent a couple of days here. Tatsuki was glad to know that ‘honeymoons’ generally meant a lot of sex too. It wasn’t that much different from their first two weeks at the palace, just like Haruka had joked around. At first, Tatsuki had felt embarrassed when his new sisters noticed the marks Akinori left on him. They teased their actual brother relentlessly about the marks he bore. But it was all in good fun. Haruka had high fived Tatsuki even, and Tatsuki very much liked the camaraderie and the loud ‘clap’ their hands had made.

The food was slightly different here. And there were ‘fruit juices’ which Tatsuki found way too sweet and sugary. Unlike Akinori and the pink-ish drinks he orders, Tatsuki prefers the juices made purely of leafy greens, with a dash of kiwi and cucumber in them. 

While the massage was stellar, Tatsuki liked his evenings with Akinori most. Apart from being close together, skin to skin…they talked so much. About their childhoods, other traditions. After dinner—which they generally shared with Akinori’s pet owl Kyuuko—they lay in bed and could talk for hours. Tatsuki feels warm hearing Akinori ask about traditions in his realm, on which date they fell, and when the next one was. It gives him the feeling that Akinori would make sure that Tatsuki wouldn’t feel sad on those days, and that perhaps they could continue some traditions that Tatsuki grew up with.

The sun is just setting outside as Akinori goes over the latest tradition Tatsuki told him the basics about.

“Okay no, wait. Am I getting this right? You boil the eggs, and then you paint them.”

“Yes.”

“And then you hide them in the mountains, but in a secluded space or with easily marked off areas.”

“Exactly.” Tatsuki had explained how one bush would be marked as a border, and that you weren’t allowed to hide eggs past such a point. It was dishonourable to make it too hard, or to hide things too far away.

“Who finds the most eggs wins? And there’s a chocolatey dessert waiting for everyone…”

“It is as you say,” Tatsuki replies, finding Akinori’s growing confusion cute to watch.

“And you do this on the 15th day every 4th month of the year…to honour the owl god that you don’t actually pray too normally!? It’s insane to me that it involves eggs...Chicken eggs no less. Your ancestor would curse your bones, Tatsuki.”

Tatsuki sighs, shaking his head. “It’s a tradition, a hunt; it tests strength, wit, and so much for more.. But we made it suitable for the kids. As the royal brothers got older, they got more competitive. Ever since that, the eggs are now hidden in dangerous spots too, colour coded to give more points. If you find a second chocolatey treat, while you already have found one, you’re supposed to leave it alone though.”

“I see…what happens to the eggs?”

“We eat them.”

“But you said your family would hide up to 100 eggs! I know you have many brothers, but not that many…”

Tatsuki laughs, caressing Akinori’s hair. “Yes, but the Rebullion lasts for several days. The egg hunt is on the third day, and we eat the eggs we find each morning after. The paint ensures that they do not rot inside. Then we do rigorous training to honour our strength. We also jump between mountain cliffs, searching to fly like birds do. The more eggs you find, the more training you have to do. On the first and second day, we have the same training. And if you found more eggs, you just continue working on your physical and mental strength.”

Akinori’s mouth opens a little. 

“I think I could get the amount of eggs…perhaps just 60 of them. Unless your family provides us with the chickens sometime in the future. And the egg hunt—we have several gardens. Our Queendom has parks and forests, so we could definitely try this out nation-wide. But the training and the jumping… No, no, no, you could only get Haruka in for that kind of contest. And I am warning you, her gift makes her exceptionally good at such things too! You wouldn’t win. I probably wouldn’t either, even if I could have Kyuuko help find me some eggs.”

Laughing again, Tatsuki rolls them over, loving to crush Akinori under his weight and hearing him complain and jest. He makes sure he never actually hurts him, and would shove off a little to give him breathing space. Lying in Akinori’s arms is so comforting.

“I never won an egg hunt, but I did jump the furthest distances.”

“…You guys do like living on the edge huh…Very interesting,” Akinori says, then yawns. He cuddles inward towards Tatsuki, and under his arm he feels the slowing of Akinori’s heartbeat. He likes any pace it has; the steady one, like when they talk. The slow one, before he falls asleep, making Tatsuki drowsy too…And that super-fast one, when they engage in their favourite activities. 

Breathing out, Tatsuki has his eyes already closed. “There’s no need to introduce one of my traditions…”

“No backtalk. We’re doing the egg hunt next year. And the lighting of the candles in December, and wading in water to catch fishes for the feast of agility… Oh and the dance of mountains. I think my sisters will very much like the painting of one another and dance around making animal noises. That’s the first one to come right? To honour all animals, it will be the easiest to introduce here. We’re doing that after my birthday. Tatsuki, I will make sure my family—which now yours too—will do what we can. I will personally make sure that you won’t miss your home terribly much,” Akinori says, his heart beating a bit faster as he appears more woken up due to letting Tatsuki know. 

Tatsuki smiles, his hand brushing Akinori’s side. He couldn’t thank him enough; not with words, not with his body. He could only speak from the heart the truth that he carries.

“But Aki…you’re my home now…”

*

*

They’re on their way back to the palace. Tatsuki remembers how he’d first entered the city from one side with his family carriages. They had gone to the forest another way. To and from the resort, they once more pass by large flower fields. There’s a heaviness on his chest, a burden he must speak off. Watching Akinori, he becomes transfixed by his profile, his serenity. Akinori had his very own silent ways, and Tatsuki loves seeing it. Their union was a lighting strike, fast and unpredictable. But where it had struck, it had struck good. Tatsuki doesn’t feel any sort of regret for falling this fast and this hard.

He brushes his knuckles over Akinori’s neck to get his eye’s attention away from the window and towards him. But before Tatsuki can speak, Akinori opens his mouth.

“It’s sad to think you don’t have large fields of tulips. Sure, it would mean that the commodity of your signature red tulip would be less costly,” Akinori says, laughing at Tatsuki. “Plus, if your flowers would be easy to reach or harvested, just anyone would come and get it.”

Their carriage for the trip trots on, unburdened by the heavy air Tatsuki feels. Akinori takes up his tea, sips at it before putting it down once more. Then he looks up at Tatsuki’s silence and continues on. Tatsuki can’t help but let his eyes penetrate Akinori’s soul. How did he come to say such things, when Tatsuki just wanted to come clear with a state secret bigger than any. It rivals the cup for sure.

“I implore you to never say something like that out loud or with people around.” 

Akinori’s eyes crinkle, not completely getting it. Tatsuki turns his knees to him; even with clothes on, the bodily connection grounds Tatsuki in the moving vehicle. He lowers his voice, gathering Akinori’s hands in his. He didn’t check back with his family if it was okay to share. But he couldn’t tell them what he saw in the goddess’ vision. No one told him, but he knew in his soul that he should not mention what he now knows from it to another soul. 

Outside, he hears Kyuuko hooting. The owl he gifted to Akinori had preferred the outside of the carriage, sleeping during the day. Hearing her now solidifies Tatsuki’s resolve to speak up. He presses into Akinori’s hands, not truly feeling his own as they become numb.

“They’re called Red Hollow Tops. The mountains…Our mountains are shaped as wings in some parts, reaching over them. They cannot be seen by birds flying over, and the travel there is not without peril for the uninitiated. It’s our biggest secret, Akinori. As big as the foxacombs.” Tatsuki shakes his head, watching Akinori’s eyes widen by understanding. “We have tulip fields. Not as large as yours, but big. We never use them too much, and the dying crops are used up each year; the dried petals to help our dying, and to dye our clothes…You haven’t seen it, but I have traditional clothes that are black too, with a gleam of red. We use them for mourning, as well as for special but solemn occasions.”

Tatsuki watches Akinori’s reaction like a hawk. His mouth gapes. But he doesn’t move.

He doesn’t speak.

*

*

It takes him a long time to find his bearings. And all that time, Akinori makes sure that where he’s connected to Tatsuki, he stays connected. Yet, his brain cannot conjure the images that Tatsuki’s words depict.

Fields of tulips. Fields! Not just a few crops here and there, with large plains of near-vertical rock between them. Actual fields.

Akinori shakes his head. He wishes he hadn’t heard this.

“Aki,” Tatsuki says after a time, his face full of concern. Was he regretting it? Akinori’s eyes glance up to him, his mouth still unable to form words. He hears himself gasping once, unable to produce sounds more intelligent than that. His nails press into Tatsuki’s fingers, into his palm. “Aki, you have to breathe.”

“I am breathing,” Akinori says at last, his eyes staying on Tatsuki. “Why…why did you tell me that?”

Tatsuki’s brows furrow. “I thought about it before…but what your goddess showed me that second night. The importance of it to your family, to you. I…It didn’t feel right to keep my biggest state secret, knowing so much of yours.”

Some of it was thought to be mere legend. No one outside of the Chrysanthemum Queendom truly believed that a tall goddess snapped her fingers and built the palace in one day. Tatsuki probably hadn’t believed it if he read it in a book. For most, it was just a fairy tail. And the people of his mother’s realm knew of the legends of old. Some have even seen the goddess in their own lifetime.

“Tatsuki, even if the knowledge of the cup leaked out, we would defend it. We have an entire city that would be loyal to us, and the goddess…But your fields! Anyone can reach them, if they really wanted to! And to have a siege in that altitude—”

“I can assure you Akinori, that no one born outside the mountains would last against us on _rocks_. We specialize in fighting there. We train every day with the knowledge of what we’re hiding. Like with your court, ours does not know about the fields. They’re guarded by only our most trusted; Suna and Komori know, for example. Their parents knew, serving my uncles in their day.” Tatsuki sits closer, his eyes going deeper and deeper into Akinori’s soul. “I would never guess for a second that you would tell anyone—”

“Of course I would most definitely _not_!” Akinori bellows, making the carriage come to a halting stop. His tea cup falls over, and he looks at it with disgust. His teeth bared. In the far, far distance, he can hear the rumble of thunder. He’s never yelled like this, not even when he had his fights with Haruka or his other sisters. He’s never raised his voice, and now his throat hurts…

He cannot look Tatsuki in the eye anymore. Anger rumbles through him, and he catches his breath. What a stupid display that was. He feels so ashamed. And Tatsuki said he wouldn’t guess either.

Tatsuki brings his hand under Akinori’s jaw, making him turn. Akinori’s eyes stay to the ground. Their driver knocks on top of the carriage’s roof, asking if they’re alright. Akinori swallows, finds his composure and answers in the affirmative, requesting they continue homewards—as if nothing happened. Tatsuki’s hand stays gently under his jawline, thumb brushing over his cheek.

“Aki…you’re supposed to say ‘naturally’. ‘Of course’ is what my family and I tend to say,” Tatsuki smiles, Akinori can hear it, then sees it with his own eyes when he dares to look up. He brings his forehead against Tatsuki’s shoulder, hard. The shoulder that bears the A… But Tatsuki can take it. He surrounds Akinori in his arms.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell like that.”

“Your passion meant it, and I don’t mind it in the least. I don’t begrudge you your heat. Akinori, I told you because I trust you. I told you about our fields because I wanted to match what I was shown. It felt wrong to keep it hidden from you. My brothers would tell their spouses too, perhaps not as soon as I did. If your family ever needs tulips, I need you to know that my family will provide it, of course. No matter how many,” Tatsuki says soothingly. Akinori loops his own arms around that broad torso. He pouts still, but feels that this too is accepted and not frowned upon within Tatsuki’s arms.

“I am pretty sure I said ‘of course’ once before,” Akinori says after a while. He’s come to lie half on the seat, his head on Tatsuki’s thigh. Tatsuki plays with his hair, probably ruining it and making it greasy. He laughs then, hand running over Akinori’s shoulder.

“Oh, I do remember. ‘Oh Akinori, my greatest love’,” Tatsuki says, bringing back the exact memory where Akinori borrowed the way the Washio family says ‘of course’. Akinori closes his eyes, not tempted to get up any time soon. His hand travels down to Tatsuki’s knee. A hard place, but when he kisses it, Tatsuki trembles. Something he found out during the honeymoon, and would be exploiting whenever the moment arises to do so. For now, he holds steadily onto it.

“My mind still reels though…Entire fields…”

“When you visit one day, we shall look at them together. I’ll piggyback you up there myself,” Tatsuki says, his tone once more strong and deep. 

“I am sorry, a whataback now?” Akinori blinks, still not inclined to sit up. Tatsuki laughs.

“It means, carrying you on my back. Your arms around my shoulders, your legs around my waist.”

Before he can make a sexual joke, Akinori’s mind is once more thrown to pieces. “You carry pigs like that!?”

*

*

It takes forever to be back in their quarters. Akinori first has to prance around and make his sisters jealous how amazing the resort trip was. The entire time he keeps mum about what other secrets he’s learned. He’d take that to the grave, Akinori vows himself, tracing a finger over the T on his forearm.

Tatsuki notices this, his hand running over Akinori’s thigh. He questions him with a gaze, and Akinori shakes his head with a smile, kissing Tatsuki’s cheek and stops his worry from spreading.

What he spreads later on is Tatsuki’s thighs. Lying upside down, Akinori licks his lips as he watches Tatsuki’s cock awaiting his mouth eagerly. Tatsuki’s tongue’s already licking circles around his asshole, those hands spreading Akinori’s ass and fingering him slowly too.

This bed is truly the best, Akinori thinks. It manages to withstand their movements, after they’re done with foreplay. Tatsuki is a passionate lover, and he makes the four-poster tremble when he sinks into Akinori. Having his arms around Tatsuki’s neck and enjoying every deep thrust, Akinori looks up with lust-filled eyes. He holds Tatsuki’s face, loving most how Tatsuki would slow down his movements then to stare at him.

“I have a question,” Akinori says, a bit out of breath. Tatsuki’s silent nod turns him on more and more. “Instead of carrying me on your back…what would you call it if you’d carry me at the front? I’d still have my arms around your shoulders, and my thighs around your waist…but my ass would be sorely tempted to drop down until we are like this,” Akinori says, punctuating ‘this’ by rolling his hips up, and guiding Tatsuki in deep. Tatsuki remains silent and stoic. He leans down, his nose sniffing Akinori’s hair. He was thinking, and Akinori could only anticipate the answer by tightening his ass around that thick cock inside of him. Tatsuki never rushes an answer, even if he cannot help his own body from moving against Akinori’s.

“I’d call it…carrying a bunch of grapes. You’re not that heavy, after all.”

Snorting, Akinori brings his face sideways to laugh out loud. Tatsuki smiles too, and soon Akinori calms down. His cheeks are red, his stomach hurting from laughter. He still has his legs spread and this beast within them. Tatsuki moves slowly once more, and they meet for a kiss. Then his arms roam between Akinori’s back and the bed, palms lifting up against Akinori’s back. He makes Akinori sit on his lap, which invites Akinori to ride him a little. The sounds between their mouths and bodies become louder, faster.

In one smooth move, Tatsuki stands up on the bed. It creaks loudly beneath them. Akinori’s heart beats faster, but he remains tightly around every part of Tatsuki he has a hold on to. Tatsuki’s hands round his ass, making sure that Akinori stays low onto his cock without slipping off. He lifts his knees, works his hips forward and up. Akinori sighs out deeply, his hands tightly on those strong shoulders. He uses his thighs to help, too. Tatsuki slaps his ass once when he lets Akinori fall down deep onto his cock, then humps him upwards again. Akinori feels this is one of their most erotic positions yet, with their eyes staring at one another, and Tatsuki having to hold him.

“Your thighs are strong, aren’t they Konoha?” Tatsuki says, using Akinori’s family name to tease him. Akinori grins, tightens his thighs and his ass for good measure. 

“You bet, Washio. Are you sure you will stay on your feet like this?”

Tatsuki grins, biting his jaw and making Akinori laugh with lust and moans. “Absolutely. As long as you moan my name, I’d do anything.”

He doesn’t go back on his word. Akinori soon loses himself in the movement, having little to do than holding on tight. Tatsuki’s forehead is covered in sweat, same as his shoulders and back. He blushes all the way down to his neck. Soon, Akinori cannot hold onto him anymore, he loses grip. One after the other, he brings one arm under Tatsuki’s armpits, to try and let his nails dig deep into Tatsuki’s upper back. His nails slide down with want.

Tatsuki’s eyes glance up once. He stops moving, pressing Akinori’s ass up and off him. Akinori sighs as his cock runs all the way over Tatsuki’s line of abs, leaving a tell-tale streak of precum. He’s not prepared for what Tatsuki does next; and yet his body flows with understanding. Tatsuki puts his feet down on the bed, turns him around, then grabs hold of Akinori thighs and lifts him up once more. Akinori quickly grabs hold of the wooden plank between the two posts. His arms scream at him what this action means, but what can he do when Tatsuki’s hands hold onto his thighs, having called them strong?

He can’t do anything when Tatsuki sinks back into him, fucking him from behind. Akinori’s arm strain with holding himself up partially. And yet, he wants to match up with Tatsuki’s strength. Show him that in bed, he won’t be weak or tap out first. His feet curl around for hold, losing it because of the sweat.

Tatsuki bites his neck, hard. “I love your tattoo. I think I’m ready to get mine, too. And maybe our emblem on my shoulder blade. But first the faded henna ink on me, forever. Your world and mine.”

Akinori’s breath hitches, unable to reply with words. He just moans, sensitive and sweet.

When neither of them can continue, Tatsuki brings them down gently. Akinori thinks he’ll just collapse or fall off the bed, but Tatsuki’s arms are there to not let that happen. He makes sure Akinori comes safely down on all fours, and stays behind him. Tatsuki hasn’t come yet, and Akinori is close—then Tatsuki’s mouth is once more on Akinori’s ass, his hand tight around Akinori’s penis, jerking him off. Akinori’s eyes close shut as pleasure makes him shiver, and his hand holds onto the bed’s lower edge.

They had so much to explore, and Akinori couldn’t get tired of it.

*

*

The long summer of their love blossoms, and the nights stay sultry and sweet even if all they do is cuddle. Tatsuki has his arms around Akinori’s chest, hugging him tight to himself. While Akinori had drifted off some time ago, Tatsuki cannot sleep. Weeks have passed, and he’s gotten so used to this. And yet, every now and then, he feels a sudden tightness in his chest. He had the henna tattoo from the wedding inked into his skin, but the artwork has healed over last month. Tatsuki carries it with pride; the high mountains shaped like a wing, to the low valleys shaped like claws. Akinori’s fingers trace it all the time, and sometimes with his tongue too.

Some anxiety he cannot shake. Is he truly deserving of so much love and care? It feels uncommon still, to be so cared for by his new family. To have someone like Akinori turn to him in the mornings, whisper the sweetest things, kiss Tatsuki’s chest, and then stay just so for a couple more minutes. To go to sleep with the love of his life.

Tatsuki is grateful all the time that his father proposed this courtship. Hugging Akinori just a little tighter without waking him up, Tatsuki brings the side of his face into Akinori’s dirty blond hair. Breathing in and out with the sleeping man calms his mind, his muscles. Feeling the heartbeat’s gentle drum against his chest, and under his hand where it lies loosely on Akinori’s throat, kill off the anxiety.

For a moment, Tatsuki relaxes. Then he remembers why he’s felt this sudden anxious moment. He looks up to the window where he stood on his second night of being a married man. Tatsuki stares at the window—now kept open at night to allow the breeze to float in through the half-open curtains—where the goddess had shared all those awe-inspiring secrets. His body stills, as realization hits him. Tomorrow is his birthday. It wasn’t quite the end of the 8th month, but so close. His family had no plans to visit, given that the birth of all the other sons is usually held at the end of the year.

Here it would be different. Tatsuki doesn’t know how, but he’s sure of it. A week prior he politely asked his father-in-law if anything special had been planned—it wasn’t ego or greed asking, but needing to know what to prepare himself for. He also would have requested no more presents, if possible… King Aglais alluded to some traditions, but that they would mostly be held in a small court, with friends and family. Tatsuki sort of liked that only the queen’s and first born princess’ birthdays were a city-wide big deal. King Aglais explains how on his birthday, he rather likes to give presents, as it was his old home’s customs.

 _”We can adjust to any of your traditions, naturally! But from what I know, you would prefer a quiet gathering, yes?”_ Able to speak openly to a man who, like him, wedded into a family and left his old realm behind, Tatsuki hinted that he preferred no presents. King Aglais promised him that there would be good food, and not too much of an event.

It should ease Tatsuki. And remembering the king’s gentle manner, it does.

*

The next morning, a loud banging wakes Tatsuki. His eyes shoot open, wondering who in the palace would try to break down their door. Akinori stirs, pouts, moans, then turns half into Tatsuki’s arms, yelling—

“Haruka! If the palace isn’t on fire and no one’s dying, stop knocking like that!”

The words make the knocking stop for exactly 5 seconds. And then, doubling the effort by probably using two fists, it returns. Akinori releases one long sentence of curses, as he gets out of bed and finds something more decent to put on before presenting himself. Tatsuki wouldn’t have been able to tell by the knocking that it was Haruka. He turns on his back, covering his upper body half way (given that a complete cover up would only inspire more mockery from his sisters-in-law), and watches Akinori open the door.

Open the door, and disappear to the other side. It happened so fast that Tatsuki didn’t see who it was. Blinking at the now closed door, Tatsuki carefully wraps the blanket around himself, and tries to find his clothes as well. Just the underpants would do, but Akinori had flung them half across the room last night. Sighing, he finds his breeches somewhat closer and puts them on. Combing his fingers through his hair and upwards, he treads over to the door. There’s no noise on the other side. He waits a couple more seconds, then opens the door.

“Happiest of days!” Seven people yell at once, and the confetti that is always present during Tulip celebrations is thrown into Tatsuki’s face. When he blinks them open, Motoya dunks another load on him, while Rintarou claps solemnly. Almost all of them are still in their night clothes.

“You’re once more a year older than us, we are always in your service,” Rintarou says, and Tatsuki has to smile when Fuyuko gathers up the confetti, and starts re-throwing it at his face—failing to get it up higher than his chest. Akinori looks sheepish in the midst of his own friends and sisters. Then Komi jumps Tatsuki’s back, ruffling through his hair and leaving more confetti there.

“Now you look the style of a birthday boy,” Komi says, jumping off expertly. Sarukui smiles happily, while Haruka pouts.

“Usually! We sisters and our offspring would bring you presents. Alas! You already have enough of everything, father says, and we must wait for the next celebrations. But on my word Washio-boy, at the end of the year we will honour your birthday in the manner of the mountains, and give you a present. We swore it to the Vixen,” Haruka says, and with that stalks off. Probably for training. Fuyuko beams, saying that all of Tatsuki’s favourite things will be ready at breakfast. She leaves after her older sister.

Rintarou’s brow arches up, but he doesn’t say anything. The four attendants leave first, walking slowly through the corridor. Tatsuki looks back at Akinori in time to watch him step forward; into his space, into his arms, and pressing his lips on top.

“Now that that’s over...let’s go back inside and freshen up a bit,” Akinori says, his hands and arms around Tatsuki’s biceps when he pulls him back inside. They walk over to the bathing chamber, where Akinori’s first action is to sit Tatsuki down on the thick rim of their bathtub. The pants Tatsuki threw on a moment ago get pulled down, and Akinori descends with hunger and mirth over Tatsuki’s thighs, his hip bones, kissing his stomach and chest. His hands work fast on Tatsuki’s penis, hardening it in no time. Tatsuki makes his heart stay with ease, remembering that he does deserve all of this. He can soon relax completely, closing his eyes and letting Akinori’s sweet mouth take him down the ravine, heating up the core, and then fly him up into the sky.

*

Breakfast with all the family is a loud affair. During courtship, Shikika’s daughters had been absent, and Natsuko’s husband was mostly gone. With them all gathered, there’s more noise, more laughter. Especially her second daughter, who threatens to throw food at every second. Tatsuki sits next to the king and Haruka, honorarily squished by Akinori and Shikika on the other side. There was little order here as usual, but Tatsuki doesn’t mind it as much as he used to when he came here first.

“Any plans for what you want to do today?” Natsuko asks, sitting across from him. Tatsuki thinks about it for a moment. 

“I think horse-riding through the valley would be pleasant,” he says in muted tones. Soon everyone discusses which horses to take, which route would be nicest today. Where the wind blows, what the weather would be like. Queen Shichishoku orders her advisors to give her children all the details, to make the best decision. 

She hardly goes horse-riding herself, given the fact that she would saddle a horse, ride it off into the horizon, and never be seen again for at least two hours. Tatsuki learned that the unruly horse he chose to ride wasn’t just the second-in-command horse—it was the son of a horse that was given to Shichishoku and it didn’t like men at all, apart from the one he knew best which was Akinori. Tatsuki had found it odd that the horse that was apparently first-in-command of all the other battle animals belonged to the king. It had been present when Tatsuki walked into the throne room too.

It was odd, until he learned that King Aglais used to be a prince of the hoof kingdom, at the other end of the world. They were known as horse breeders, riders, and caretakers. When Gigant’s father was but a mere foal, the hoof kingdom’s prince gave the horse as a present to the queen when she was still a princess. Growing up here must have given it an aversion to other males.

“Will...that beast be available?” Tatsuki asks Akinori who is in mid-argument with Fuyuko about the route to take. It takes a moment for Akinori to realize what Tatsuki means. And then that all-knowing smug smile spreads over his handsome features.

“Are you sure you want to try and ride Gigant again?” It was a challenge, one that never stopped between them. Tatsuki smiles back, leans his body forward, his arms looping behind Akinori’s back and his fingers curl over Akinori’s hips. Possessive, a little aggressive, and mostly unnoticed during breakfast. Their bubble forms like a protective barrier, and their whispers stay within it as breakfast things change hands, and the clinking of mugs continues.

“Won’t you be with me every stride of the way to make sure I will remain unharmed?” Tatsuki whispers into Akinori’s ear, liking how it heats up under the brush of his lips. Akinori’s smile doesn’t fade as he leans forward as well, letting his lips hide in the crook of Tatsuki’s neck. Meeting the counter by letting his own hand run over Tatsuki’s inner thigh. Just like earlier, too. Except this time the hand doesn’t brush up to a more dangerous spot.

“Be assured that if the horse doesn’t throw you off, I will tackle you to the ground first chance I get.”

Smiling rather sweetly, Tatsuki nuzzles his nose across Akinori’s temple. “Somehow, I would love to see you try.”

*

The ride takes all day. They travel to a little village for lunch. Rintarou and Motoya keep a respectful distance ahead, while Sarukui and Komi stay to the rear of the princes. When a thick forest arises, Akinori guides his horse into Tatsuki’s, making it change direction. It happens a few times that Akinori seduces Tatsuki off the horse, into the grass, and out of his clothes. The stamina he shows today is truly one that Tatsuki is awed by. His hands keep finding Akinori’s hips, and Tatsuki’s fever dreams become reality in any way that Akinori can offer to make them real.

When they come out of the thicket, Motoya is the first to ride off, making sure they don’t lose track of the group. Tatsuki brings Akinori close to his side, giving him a kiss on his forehead.

“You’re spoiling me today. More than usual, that is.” Tatsuki murmurs, not the least unhappy about it. Akinori’s brow arches up, his smile still sweet when he returns the side-hug. Their horses await them, but Akinori brings Tatsuki to a halt.

“Are you going to complain or will you let me continue as I wish?” Akinori asks, making Tatsuki press a longer-lasting kiss into his temple, murmuring that ‘naturally’ he wasn’t complaining at all. They return into the saddles and trod along, with Sarukui and Komi trailing not far behind.

Before the sun sets on Chrysanthensia, the group makes it back. Tatsuki is hungry from all the exercise, and already sees servants gathering and running off in haste. Akinori guides him up the stairs and into their place, to make love to him once more as they refreshen in the bathtub. This time it’s slower, more dedicated to the time spent instead of making it quick. Tatsuki keeps on falling, his back pressed into the tub, his arms along the rim’s side. He enjoys every bit of Akinori’s attention, letting his own deep moans bounce back off the walls.

When it’s dinner time, they dress a little nicer. The longer summers here mean that Akinori chooses a see-through shirt that reveals every bit of him—and not just his nipples or his tattoo. Tatsuki has left a lot of bites and scratches on him. His pants are a pastel coral colour. Watching him put on a necklace, Tatsuki can’t help himself. He comes from behind, hugging Akinori to himself. Kisses him deeply. He then looks down at Akinori’s tattoo, letting his fingers brush over the see-through fabric.

Akinori’s eyes have a hint of coral too. He points to the dresser. “Want to bend me over real quick? You look hungry for more than food.”

Tatsuki stays stoic, shakes his head. He just...wants to hold him. Akinori’s smile spreads softly when Tatsuki leans his torso into Akinori’s back, letting his arms loop around his man’s front.

“I don’t want to be late for dinner.”

“It’s your birthday dinner, you can’t be late. Everyone will just be early.” But Akinori doesn’t press it; his hands cover Tatsuki’s, and he hums a little song while all Tatsuki does is hug Akinori and feel his perfection against his body.

The court room is a little fuller than Tatsuki expected. The court families congratulate him one by one, coming to the long table where Tatsuki sits on his father-in-law's side. They figured that King Aglais, followed by Haruka, Tatsuki, and finally Akinori was the best possible seating arrangement. On the other side, the order starts with the queen, then her first, third and last born daughters.

As the food arrives, Tatsuki prays along for the sacrifice of the boar slain in his honour. Akinori lightly kicks his foot once, and both of them have to suppress a smile as Natsuko leads the gratitude prayer.

The food is excellent, and the wines are just the right amount of sweet for Tatsuki’s liking. The children of the court families bring him a flower crown, made of blue poppies, bellflowers, gentian, asters, and delphiniums entwined throughout. There are a few hellebore flowers too, but Tatsuki can quickly see that they’re covered in a protective glaze. He thanks the children for their gift, and brings his large body under the table and in front of them to receive it.

“Thank you very much,” Tatsuki says, not able to go back whence he came. His friends, along with Komi and Sarukui, make their way over. They have their hands behind their backs; for a second, Tatsuki wonders if there’s more confetti. Instead, they add bright blue and dark petals to his crown. Tatsuki wants to bow a bit lower for Komi’s sake, but Komi simply jumps up before there’s a chance for it.

“Happiest of days,” Komi and Sarukui say again, with a slight bow.

“May you live long and prosperous,” Rintarou and Motoya add, putting their fists over their hearts. Tatsuki does it too in return, bowing his heads towards the four of them. When he turns to return to the table, his sisters-in-law await him towards the end of his mother-in-law’s side. The other two spouses stand there too, beckoning him that way. Each adds a petal of pure brilliant red. ‘No tulips’, Haruka mouths and winks as she passes hers into the flower crown.

Tatsuki thanks them all, feeling abashed at the attention. Queen Shichishoku and her husband get up at last, placing one chrysanthemum flower each near his ears. They kiss him on the cheek, wishing him the best of days. King Aglais holds him still a little longer.

“We couldn’t have asked for a better man to marry our son. The happiness you have brought him and our family...we thank the goddess a thousandfold for bringing you to us. I am sure you miss your family and your old lifestyle...We will always do all we can to make it as easy for you as can be.”

Words fail Tatsuki, but the king shakes his head, not needing to hear any response. From a window, Kyuuko flies down to nuzzle his face with her beak, then she hoots and flies behind his new family, staring like them. They all block this side of the table, and Tatsuki turns around in wonder how he should go back to his chair. 

It’s only then he realizes that his chair has been placed where he stood earlier, receiving the flower crown. Beside it stands Akinori, his appearance changed; his makeup is darker and more fox-like. Instead of the tight pants he wears a loose and lighter-flowing hakama. His feet below are bare, while in his ears are earrings dangling low over his chest. Tatsuki’s brain stills, looking at the chair. He feels a slight apprehension of sitting down on it...but he trusts Akinori.

When he sits down, Akinori thankfully creates some distance. The court families had moved their tables silently, to give him more space. All while Tatsuki’s back was turned and Akinori’s father had held him in place. These foxes...Tatsuki grins however, putting his arms across his chest. Akinori smiles widely, then closes his eyes as he moves. The dance is short and sweet, and Tatsuki blesses Akinori’s sense of decorum when it isn’t erotic at all. He just looks beautiful, bending his back a little but never too much. The earrings aren’t in his earlobes, but dangle over the top. They never fall through Akinori’s movements.

When Akinori comes to a slow stop, the gathering erupts in applause. Tatsuki slow-claps, watching hungrily as Akinori slowly moves over to him. The unstoppable force of nature, his personal hurricane, sinks down over his thighs, keeping a most appropriate distance as children are watching. They kiss in the middle, with Akinori’s hands on Tatsuki’s shoulders, and Tatsuki’s hands under Akinori’s jaw. With the ease he floated down with, Akinori jumps away, taking Tatsuki’s hand as Akinori bows to the applause.

A servant brings Tatsuki’s chair back, as everyone slowly seats themselves again for dessert.

“And!? Didn’t I do spectacularly?” Akinori asks, sitting down warm and flushed next to Tatsuki.

“It was very nice. Is it a tradition to dance for your loved ones, or to do a performance?” Tatsuki asks, watching as Akinori’s face sinks.

“Huh? No, I told you when and how we dance... Hold on a second, I thought it was the Washio family’s style to perform a dance on someone’s birthday!” Akinori says, and Tatsuki starts to pull together where it went wrong. He laughs.

“Oh...no. The sons perform a dance for their mother and father on the wedding day. And we do a group performance on the day of our father’s birthday, together with some of the most skilled dancers at court and from the mountain villages. How did you come by the information—?” Tatsuki starts, then quickly kisses Akinori on the mouth when he seems upset. “Never you mind. I liked that dance, and it was very sweet of you.”

“Blood on the petals, I thought I was doing you a favour by implementing one of your traditions...Now I just feel dumb for getting my family to help me out.”

“Stop the pouting,” Tatsuki says, kissing Akinori’s face. “Who cares? We make our own traditions. After all, our houses combined. We have our own little banner too. No one is going to say what we should do, when there’s two worlds to think of,” Tatsuki says, and he keeps talking and kissing Akinori until the face settles back into normalcy. “Look, I will dance for you as well.”

Akinori pouts. “You’re not even keeping it a secret.”

“You’re the trickster after all. I’m straight-forward,” Tatsuki says, kissing Akinori’s brow.

“Hold on, what’s happening. Did Akinori mess things up?” Haruka asks. Akinori was about to answer, but Tatsuki shakes his head before he can.

“My husband could do no wrong, I am sure. As long as his intentions are good, his actions will be too, in my eyes,” Tatsuki explains, enjoying it when Haruka looks away first. Akinori’s hands cover his under the table, and they exchange a quiet look.

“Ah! Here it comes!” Fuyuko exclaims. Tatsuki watches as from the side doors, he sees a familiar group of people.

Then his mind empties as a cake enters. Everyone oohs and aahs, even as the cake remains at the farthest side of the courtroom and mostly in the shadows. No one notices Tatsuki’s confused look around. Indeed, he only sees Motoya and Rintarou look confused as well. Sure, the cake was much smaller than the one he and Akinori had on their wedding day...and it was very blue in colour. He didn’t want to ask if there was some sort of secret wedding, or what the meaning was of the cake to be here. There are little lights on it too.

“Oh, the blackberries will taste so good. They’re freshly harvested this time of year,” Akinori says, his previous mood completely forgotten.

“Look at the icing! It looks—oh dear goddess, they have outdone themselves,” Shikika says in awe as the cake comes into the proper light. Tatsuki’s entire body freezes over, and he feels tears prick his eyes. His hand around Akinori’s feels numb and cold. And it takes his heart but a second to burst, overflowing from an indescribable gratitude and happiness. 

The cake is formed and decorated like a mountain. There are red and orange petals strewn across, never too many in one spot. The colours are incredible; light grey and dark blue, with purples from the fruits. This cake is different too as it has little lights blazing tiny fires all over. Tatsuki counts 22 in total. The courtroom claps once more when the cake is put on a small pedestal directly across from Tatsuki’s seat. The head pastry chef takes a long and deep bow towards the queen, Shikika, and then to the couple he made the last gigantic cake for.

“No big story this time, only congratulations for your birth! 22 years, yes? We hope for many, many more, on your happiest day!”

Akinori is ecstatic next to him. “This is one of the most life-like creations. Oh, you have to blow out the candles!”

Tatsuki’s eyes are drying up again from keeping them open so long. He blinks to Akinori, then whispers.

“Please...explain… is this for me?”

Akinori sputters, then snorts. “ _Of course_ it is for you, silly husband,” Akinori says, borrowing the Washio's ‘naturally’ equivalent. “Bloody petals I forgot...you’re not used to cake! Okay so, you see the 22 candles? You try to blow them all out at once, while making a wish. If they’re all doused, the wish will come true!”

Everyone’s waiting, but Tatsuki is afraid that he might blow too hard and ruin the cake somehow. He takes a deep breath, remembering his jump over the mountain’s crevices. He inhales, wishing to not make a fool of himself. When Tatsuki blows out his breath, it’s a long and steady ‘psoooh’ that comes from him. He holds tightly to Akinori’s hands, only wishing for 90 more birthdays with this man at his side. The same wish he’d make every year from now on. One by by one the candles douse, while their wax doesn’t ruin the cake. Neither does a petal move or burn. The icing is safe too. 

All 22 candles are doused, and the courtroom claps again, giving their congratulations.

“...Woah, amazing. Hey, you have to cheat and help me on my birthday next month,” Akinori says, then kisses Tatsuki’s cheek.

“I won’t do that,” Tatsuki says matter-of-factly, only to have Akinori pull his chin to the side, to hide him biting Tatsuki’s ear.

“Trust me, Tatsuki, I will make it worth your while.”

*

If the start of the day and how Akinori continued to surprise him were any indication, he has a fairly good idea of what awaits him at night. He dutifully goes into the bathing chamber when Akinori tells him to. _“There’s a little present.”_ As if Tatsuki hasn’t been spoiled enough today. He finds a dark blue square box on a white wooden table. 

Removing the lid. Tatsuki’s eyes look over the dark fabric. He touches it, finding it a little coarse and exciting to his finger tips. Lifting it from the box, Tatsuki lets it fall to the tile floor. It feels heavier than the chiffon Akinori prefers, making Tatsuki wonder briefly if this is the georgette fabric one of Akinori’s aunts talked about. How this is clothing alludes to him. In typical Akinori fashion, it is see-through all the way—from the embroidered flowers at the shoulders that have holes in them, to the tailored middle where hand sewn feather pattern circles around, all the way to the bottom of the pants. The shimmery fabric is dark blue, the accents a mix of dark grey and light blue. Not at all what Tatsuki would choose for himself, must less dream of.

“Even so,” Tatsuki says to himself, as he undresses. He has faith in Akinori’s visions and plan. As he slips into the shimmery blue outfit, he finds openings where usually no openings should be. 

Apart from that, the fabric feels nice; not too rough on his skin, but certainly having that meshy edge that tickles. Especially near his nipples, where he finds one of those obscene openings. For a second, Tatsuki closes his eyes, needing to be grateful that the nipples didn’t have any sort of red-accented coverings. 

He approaches the full body mirror Akinori had requested to be made and placed here. They had a fully capable mirror near their wardrobe, but Akinori didn’t want to haul it back and forth. When Tatsuki asked why it was even needed here, Akinori showed him as soon as the mirror was in the bathing chambers; to watch themselves in the reflection when they had sex. The memory brings more blood flow to his penis, but Tatsuki ignores it for now in favour of seeing himself in the mirror. Some of Akinori’s vanity is rubbing off on him.

Turning around to check the back pulls the fabric apart at the rear, revealing his toned ass. He swallows once, comes to terms with the idea that he too could spread his legs and allow Akinori in, then sighs. The front also has an opening; Tatsuki’s hand glides in from his hipbone into the sheath there. He’s suddenly aware that someone made this, and that not many at court favour this colour scheme. Plus Akinori had requested this being made. Shame runs over him, before pride in his lover and the joys they partake in erase that shame completely.

The fabric is really growing on him; it covers his shoulders, chest, back, and legs. His arms are free, and the tailored waist accentuates everything Tatsuki has trained hard for. His cock wasn’t part of that, but Tatsuki can soon see the appeal in this sort of clothing. His heart hammers thinking of what Akiori might wear, what he plans to do tonight.

Standing still in front of the mirror a moment longer, Tatsuki traces the upper line of his tattoo over the georgette fabric, Tatsuki wishes he had a god to pray to. The only altar he has might be the bed, and the only divine being he reveres is most likely waiting there for him. He sighs out, stares himself down in the reflection.

“As we used to say in Onaga’s workshop...let’s put the petal to the metal.”

Kingdom come, Tatsuki wasn’t ready in the least. He takes in the scene, feet rooted to the white flooring. For the moment, his soul leaves his body—overflowed are his emotions that his simple form could not contain it.

“I take that cute gaping look of yours as a sign that you’re enjoying what you see.”

Tatsuki doesn’t want to speak too soon, but little other views could do to him what his eyes are observing right now. Their bed, which has already endured so much in a short amount of time, has transformed. A light grey wooden plate has been put at the head of the bed, straight against the wall there. From it hang several chiffon strips, draped over the bed and continuing over the edges.

One such lengthy chiffon drapery is covering Akinori’s front. He’s pleasuring himself, his arm visibly moving behind the bunched fabric he holds clutched in his other fist. His blush is bright, as the moonlight shimmers into the room and shines on the chiffon. Tied around Akinori’s ankles are beige silk ropes; they pool around his feet in circles, as if he himself emerged from it.

A silken god with an even smoother tongue.

“Mhnnnn, I knew my design would look fantastic on you,” Akinori mewls, his mouth half-open as he fingers himself.

“Was it your plan to let me completely ravage you?”

“Until I’m unmade? Yes. Anyway this is your night, I didn’t want to take the decision from you. It’s your birthday, so you get to choose; tie me up and fuck me sensless any way you like, or let me tie you up and pleasure you until morning. _Anything_ you feel like doing, we can try it,” Akinori smiles, bending his head back a little and sighing out loud. “I’ll be ready over here waiting.”

Had Tatsuki really thought he could conquer this being? No. He never wanted to tame the fox. Chase him, maybe, keep him. But Akinori was a storm, a wild fire. He wasn’t as cold as the wind or the hail on top of the mountains; he was the sigh that passes after. He’s lightning made human, beautiful and striking. Seen in an instant, able to stop a person’s heart. Tatsuki feels his knees weaken, but he won’t allow them to fall. Not yet.

Instead, his eyes mist over, thankful to have had the chance to devote himself entirely to this man.

Akinori’s hands loosen around the fabric, from himself. His head tilts to the side, letting his dirty blond hair fall over his face.

“If you want to cry, at least do so in my arms, my love.”

Tatsuki doesn’t have to be asked twice. Swallowing through his thick throat, he approaches the bed. Eyes always on Akinori, who sinks lower to greet him, Tatsuki comes on all fours when he enters the bed. The chiffon and silk were placed so that he wouldn't immediately tangle himself. Their knees touch, and Tatsuki has to stop himself from falling over Akinori and kissing him right away. First, he must complain.

“You really gave me a tough decision to make,” Tatsuki says, pulling at the silk ropes and making Akinori fall on his back. He pulls more, until he can place Akinori’s feet behind him. The chiffon drapes over Akinori’s chest when he does so, over his throat. “You’re the most beautiful and cruel creature I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting, Aki.”

His eyes have dried before Akinori touches his face, but when the thumb caresses over his cheek, Tatsuki thinks he could let tears fall from his lashes and not feel less.

“And you’re the most magnificent and gorgeous being I have ever laid eyes on. What is it that you want to do first, Tatsu?”

The fabric around his penis tightens. Tatsuki takes a deep breath. His mind sees a hundred possibilities, but what he wants first—he brings Akinori’s hands to his shoulders. First, he must be grateful and doting, and he wants to be adored.

“I like what you’ve chosen for me, to wear. I want to feel your hands everywhere, Akinori.”

He could bite that brow, whenever it arches up. “Everywhere huh? I mean, you didn’t twirl for me...So I have no idea what the backside looks like.”

Tatsuki descends, laughing deeply. “Oh, but you can imagine what your brain had in mind for that all along.”

Akinori’s hands roam over him as they kiss. It’s a soft and slow give and take. Tatsuki keeps his hands balled to a fist, knuckles down on the mattress as his body is caressed. Akinori’s hands travel from the chest to the sides, up from behind and over the shoulder blades. He cannot scratch this time, unless he goes to the arms. There he traces the hard lines of Tatsuki’s biceps, tickles the softer side of his elbow. Further down, Akinori’s palms first race up and down the thighs, pushing them apart. Tatsuki’s penis comes through the now loose opening, falling directly on top of the barely chiffon-covered center of Akinori’s torso.

“Ah, whoops,” Akinori says between kisses, tucking Tatsuki’s penis back inside. Tatsuki groans once, then moans when Akinori’s palm strokes him through the georgette fabric. Complaints are forgotten, as this is clearly a new and superior feeling. He doesn’t have to, but Tatsuki holds completely still. He won’t let his hip sink deeper into the feeling.

“Mhnnn, you’re so full of restraints. Allow me to loosen you up?” Akinori says, and Tatsuki would say yes to anything. He’d jump out of the window, as long as he’d have Akinori in his arms, and that foxy smile laughing in his ear. Tatsuki’s own indecision gets him manhandled to lie completely flat on his stomach. His wrists tied up to the board, Tatsuki moves his arms to find out the limits. Akinori then resettles Tatsuki just a little lower, making the restraints a little tighter. The chiffon feels gentle, until Tatsuki pulls again.

Akinori places his naked self on the backs of Tatsuki’s thighs. His hands run up the back once more all the way to the shoulders, where his fingers are careful with the flowery embroidery on top. Hovering over him, Akinori manages not to touch Tatsuki anywhere else. His lips then kiss Tatsuki’s ears, who finds his sensitivity heightened.

“If you don’t like it or want to be freed, say grapefruit.”

That makes Tatsuki snort. “Why that one?”

“Because it’s bitter if there’s no sugar added, and I don’t want anything but sweetness for you.”

Even as Akinori says that, what follows is nothing short of hot. His hands massage Tatsuki’s shoulders, his back. He presses his fingertips into Tatsuki’s hip bones, the deep V-cut trembling from the touch. Akinori’s thighs glide further down, and then his fingers part the opening at Tatsuki’s rear. His body tightens for a second as the new sensation of Akinori kissing his round ass creates a jaw-slacking experience. Akinori spreads him, then lets his tongue slide carefully over Tatsuki’s ass.

His mind empties out, and Tatsuki pulls the chiffon ropes, unable to move otherwise. His fist ball as the erotic touch of Akinori’s tongue slips inside of him. Akinori massages his ass too, then one hand runs between Tatsuki’s body and the mattress to play with his cock through the dark blue fabric. Tatsuki brings one of his knees to the side and further up, to deepen the feel. Akinori doesn’t back off from the challenge, rises to it.

Tatsuki’s face is barely done getting warm when Akinori retreats all too soon. Turning on his back, Tatsuki looks up to him; their faces reflect the same lust, while Akinori licks his lips. During the turn, the two strips of chiffon twist, and tighten once more. Tatsuki’s arms are stretched up and above him, and he takes hold of the fabric that, on Akinori, drove him insane.

“Tie my ankles too. I don’t want to be able to move at all,” Tatsuki hears himself say, throat dry, lips shuddering. Akinori is a ghost, his floaty movements knowing no hesitation to Tatsuki’s wishes. Tatsuki’s legs are spread to the corners of the bed, then tied up with the silk that was around Akinori’s ankles before. Thinking about that preparation, Tatsuki asks what Akinori had done it for, while his husband straddles him.

“Oh, you know. I was thinking I’d prepare myself in case you wanted to tie me up to the board. Like, either have my body go round like a ‘c’. Have you stand over me, your arms on the board, sinking into me?” Akinori is swirling his hips, letting his bare ass run up and down, all over Tatsuki’s cock. Somehow it manages to stay under the fabric during all of it. Tatsuki is so hard that it hurts. Listening to Akinori’s erotic ideas however, he stays completely still, not rushing his lover. “Or putting me flat on my face, legs half raised up tied to the board; you holding me up at my hips, right behind me. Doing me until my legs go numb. Simple stuff, really!” 

Tatsuki blinks. “I don’t see why you’ve let me choose what we do…Those positions sound very pleasing, but difficult.” Tatsuki groans at the last word, as Akinori finally allows his cock to be freed from its georgette prison. 

“If that’s what you want,” Akinori says, blushing brightly. The moon shines on them, and Tatsuki inhales deeply when Akinori makes a last second position change. He straddles Tatsuki’s chest instead, showing all his naked glory. Akinori’s head goes down to lick and kiss Tatsuki’s cock, making it all sorts of slick. Unable to touch, Tatsuki pulls the chiffon ropes, making the board creak a little. It only encourages Akinori to give him mouth faster and with more added moaning.

“Akinori...sit on me… And ehm,” Tatsuki swallows. He closes his eyes, figuring that this is the safest he’s ever felt with a sexual partner. Akinori wanted to know what Tatsuki likes, what he wants to do. Silence wouldn’t get him anywhere. “Tie one of those chiffon strips around your throat and...give it to me to hold.”

He swallows harder, eyes opening to watch Akinori sit up. But Akinori doesn’t turn his head for some time. He still jerks Tatsuki’s penis up and down.

When Akinori’s head turns to his shoulder, and those eyes become cunning slits, Tatsuki knows he’s made the right decision.

“Darling...I thought you’d never ask.” And soon, Tatsuki’s balled fist opens to hold the chiffon tied to Akinori’s throat instead. They test the pull, and Tatsuki watches Akinori like a hawk for his reaction. He lets it go loose so that Akinori can straddle his lap again, sinking down this time. Tatsuki moans out loud, finally inside of his most treasured love. When he pulls the chiffon rope, Akinori settles his hands backwards onto Tatsuki’s covered chest. The way Akinori moves breaks Tatsuki’s resolve to pull gently. 

He pulls Akinori all the way back, to lie on him. To kiss him when Akinori’s head turns to his lips. They laugh, and it’s all in Akinori’s control how fast they go. He has his feet beside Tatsuki’s knees, guiding himself up and down Tatsuki’s dick. Tatsuki watches as Akinori’s penis bounces onto his stomach, staining it a little with precum. He doesn’t want to push Akinori’s throat away, so the chiffon lies in a heap around their heads

“Oh goddess, Tatsuki…That feels so good.”

It doesn’t stop there. Akinori’s ideas range from pulling the silk over his eyes, and bind his wrist together. They freed Tatsuki’s restraint, who doesn’t undress too soon. He likes the feel of this fabric, of being completely seen nonetheless. And Akinori’s moans when the georgette-covered hips run over him are everything to Tatsuki’s ears. The board doesn’t show any signs of breaking, and so Tatsuki stands up and carries Akinori with him. Ties his bound hands to it, pressing Akinori’s body flat against the grey board so he won’t fall. Tatsuki’s hands run over Akinori’s ass, spreading him over Tatsuki’s cock once more. After making sure that his footing on the bed is good, Tatsuki fucks Akinori hard against the board, until Akinori’s moans become louder than the creaking. Tatsuki uses yet another chiffon strip to shut him up. Akinori mewls against the gag, his ass tight around Tatsuki’s penis the entire time.

Tatsuki doesn’t stop until Akinori comes. Then he removes the semi-blindfold, the gag, and the bindings around Akinori’s hands. Akinori leads his arms around Tatsuki’s neck, and they continue slowly until Tatsuki comes inside of him as well. Still within, he kisses Akinori, unable to thank him in words.

“What’s next on your mind?” Tatsuki asks, his voice low and deep when his lips brush over Akinori’s. He feels that foxy smile spread there, even without looking.

“First I’ll undress you. The outfit is completely ruined with stains. Then, it’s your turn to be bound again, I believe. I want you to sit down, Tatsuki, and put your arms up against the board. I won’t tie your legs this time,” Akinori says, and they soon find themselves once more in a position where Akinori sits backwards on a now fully naked Tatsuki. And yet it’s closer, hotter, more unruly.

They’re sitting more compact, with Tatsuki’s knees up a little, and Akinori’s lower legs besides Tatsuki’s rear. Tatsuki’s arms are pulled tightly up, but he can move his hips freely. Akinori’s ass is flat against the lower part of his stomach. When Akinori brings his back to Tatsuki’s chest this time, it’s not to kiss him, but to show off—Akinori uses one of the chiffon drapes to rub it over his penis. His smile is delirious, and Tatsuki’s eyes glance between the sweat-sheened face, down to the moving hips, further to where Akinori pleasures himself until he comes all over himself. Tatsuki follows soon after, and Akinori sinks formlessly against him. 

When there’s no movement at all, Tatsuki pushes his chest forward to bump Akinori.

“Grapefruit. Untie me so I can hug you,” Tatsuki says with a serious tone, making Akinori laugh.

“Standing up? On my own legs? You think highly of my strength,” Akinori says out of breath. He falls off Tatsuki without too much grace this time, sitting up slowly. Tatsuki stares him down.

“I do, Aki. Not just of your strength, but of you as a person.”

Akinori blushes, then quickly gets up to undo the ties from Tatsuki’s wrist and lower arms. He kisses the slight redness formed after this round, and helps Tatsuki lower his arms carefully so as to not to hurt him. When Tatsuki has more feelings in his arms, he makes Akinori sit back down on him, to hug him as intended. Soon they roll around however, within the messes of used silk ropes and come-stained chiffon fabrics. The long drapes entangle them completely, and while Tatsuki enters Akinori once more, they giggle, kiss each other’s mouths, shoulders, and arms. 

They end up completely wrapped up around one another. Akinori on his back, legs up and around Tatsuki, with chiffon criss-crossing over legs and back.

“Mhnn,” Tatsuki sighs, sinking in deeper and watching Akinori’s eyes roll back with pleasure. “Just as intended.”

“Yes,” Akinori moans back, either an agreement or just lust filtering out from his lips. “You said you wouldn't mind being tied up with me. Had to test that theory in practice,” Akinori says, and soon the only thing on his lips is Tatsuki’s name, curses, and more sounds of pleasure.

*

*

While Tatsuki explicitly didn’t want his birthday to be a big deal, Akinori looks forward to his. His mother invites all the court families this time, as well as some guards to join in, and the youngest boys living around the palace. Akinori’s sisters handle the decorations and lighting.

“Unlike you, I like it very bright!” Akinori laughs, as Kyuuko hoots sleepily on his shoulder. They were walking the uppermost corridor.

“It wasn’t my choice to have the party in the courtroom. One of your larger balconies would have done, too. And, it is your family’s conscious choice not to light too many candles if there’s not so many people gathering,” Tatsuki flashes back, having his hands behind his back. 

“To be honest though, it feels more like our old home. Our courtroom is tiny and square, and well, all rock,” Suna says, twirling his blades along. “In any case, what’s today’s plan?”

“Beating you at spear fighting is mine,” Haruki says, carrying the spear he received as a gift. Suna walks backwards, and they start their old bickering. Suna had been more adept with the spear, and granted Haruki lessons on how to use his. That soon turned into a rivalry, in which Haruki was good at dodging and squatting away from Suna’s attacks. Yamato sighs, changing his pace and passing Akinori.

“Oh, I know what we could do,” Komori says, his arms crossed behind his head. His plans mostly involved trying to find routes from the top of the palace to the bottom, by using unconventional matters. Behind the group, Suna’s swords are already twirling around Haruki’s head as the two of them fall behind. Akinori shakes his head.

“Saru, if you please,” Akinori asks, and Yamato’s sighs could empty out his lungs, deep as they are. 

“Today we’re showing you guys one of the secret exits out of the palace.”

“There’s four, right?” Suna says, jumping away from Haruki’s attack. He counts up four exits, all of which correct. Akinori gives him a withering stare.

“How did you find those?”

“Uhm, my apologies? I was very bored while Tatsuki tried to court you. And your spies were only fun to figure out at the beginning. Anyway, I know of four, so this is the fifth?” Suna asks, uncaring for the looks Akinori throws at him. Then he sighs, as it couldn’t be helped.

“What do you think is the right answer?” Akinori says, soon returning to his haughty manner. Suna blanks, and Tatsuki smiles warmly at his friend, then his husband. He knows who built this palace, after all.

“There’s nine?”

“Uh-huh! And this is the most important one. If enemies ever rush the palace, the queen and the first borns will be brought this way. Haruka will lead the defense, while the king mobilizes our horse-warriors. We will be assess who we are fighting, and where to escape to, but this is the hardest to reach exit, and so the last place enemies will arrive upon,” Haruki explains, a little out of breath from his impromptu back-and-forth with Suna.

Tatsuki nods, looking ahead. “And where does it lead to?”

Grinning, Akinori gestures his thumbs down. “Hell’s tails, we call it. It's the fastest exit, once you reach it. After that, a very long road will lead to the outer walls and into a safe zone. My mom and sister will then lead the attack from the outside, or take care of any assholes surrounding our city.”

“Hmmm, not as defenseless as I thought,” Suna murmurs. The corridor follows an upward slope, bending to the right.

“We won’t open it today, but it’s only for you guys to know where it is,” Yamato says. Akinori looks at the six large plates at the end of the corridor. There’s a seventh one facing their way. Knocking on the first one, Akinori looks at Tatsuki when he addresses the mountain boys.

“Now, guess which one is the correct one?”

Tatsuki grins; he crosses his arms over his chest, then puts up two fingers just for Akinori to see.

“Uh, the one at the end?” Komori wonders, while Suna brings his blade point to each as he knocks. 

“Are there wrong ones too?”

Haruki arches his eyebrow at Suna. “Wanna try it!?”

Yamato, not allowing another banter-spar to unfold, waves to the second one. “You push it at the side, here. It needs at least four hands to push it evenly. The plate will revolve, and you can jump through. At least two persons have to stay behind and close it seamlessly. Haru, come here,” Yamato says, then shows how the plate is moved, how to make it spin, and how to stop it again. “When the highest ranking of the royal line is safe, there will be guards here in any case. But if we have to bring our friends into safety, we will most likely follow.”

“I never thought this fluffy realm was so battle ready,” Suna says, sheathing his blades. “Do you guys expect enemies?”

“No, it’s uncommon since the war. But...there are people who know of our state’s legends. Some think there’s gold hoarded here, or precious marble. In any case, no queendom wants the repeat of the mistake that the Queen of Lilies made—to never be ready for war, never expect bloodshed. We all know what happened to her.”

Akinori bows his head in silence at the remembrance. The Lilly queendom used to be just two states over. There was a river that connected them. The Lilly queendom was led by a gentle queen, who saw the good in people, never the bad. And it was her downfall when the first Petal War started, when her country was raided for the large beautiful lilies. With the end of that war, all the flower realms knew lilies as a funeral flower, after that queendom was lost to the war.

“It will not go that far,” Tatsuki says in the silence. Up so high, he must feel more at peace. Akinori looks up. It was foolish to think nothing bad would ever happen again. Even in the peace times, most regents would train soldiers and devise exit plans. It’s not an argument Akinori thought he’d be making, or the first they might experience in his marriage.

And he doesn’t have to voice it, as Tatsuki’s eyes glance to him, then past the open archway over the city.

“If the city is ever under siege, or if anyone would be foolish enough to try and announce war on it, our bond will hold stronger,” Tatsuki says, letting the silence which he uses as a mantle stretch out longer and differently. Akinori wills his legs to stay straight and strong, despite their wish to become gooey and fall into Tatsuki’s arms.

“Well, let’s hope it will not come to that,” Suna says, breaking the silence gently. “And if it does, we will just throw Komi into the attackers, and yell at him that they called him tiny shrimp.”

“Hey!” Haruki says, and this time Yamato doesn’t try to end the sparring that starts as he leads them back down to the corridor. Suna promises too late that he’ll find Haruki’s actual favourite food if they ever travel to the distant seas. Komori laughs, pointing at Suna and saying he’ll get what he deserves this time. Akinori watches them depart, sighs a soft smile. He slips his hand under Tatsuki’s bicep, remaining here as the mountain doesn’t move for some time after his words were spoken. 

Akinori doesn’t make him follow. He simply puts his head on Tatsuki’s arm, and looks over the brilliant white city.

*

In the last week of the ninth month, the sun rises a little later; but rise and shine it does. Akinori laughs when Tatsuki puts his arm over his head, covering his eyes under the crook of his elbow. Still giggling, Akinori rolls over him, draping his limbs across Tatsuki’s. While Tatsuki is the morning person of the two, he’s become more and more grumbling about the continued warmth.

Today, he voices it in no vague terms. “Why does the change of seasons take so long here…”

Kissing the chest full of grievances and dislike, Akinori murmurs an apology on behalf of his realm’s placement in the world, and the longer sun hours. It doesn’t dissuade Tatsuki’s grumbles, even if they do become a little more cute and pouty.

“In the mountains,” he starts, which has been a very common phrase starter lately. “The middle of the ninth month brings the rain, and the tenth month brings the cold. But here? The summer seems endless. More like there’s a second spring coming.”

“Hmm, I have heard that your mountain’s winters are too long. Do you prefer the cold over the heat?” Akinori says, bringing his thigh between Tatsuki’s legs. There’s no vagueness here either. Tatsuki stills, unfolding his arm from his face to put it around Akinori. His other arm lands where Akinori has his across Tatsuki’s chest.

“There are many positives to the cold. Such as sleeping in with the one I love,” Tatsuki says, bringing his lips to Akinori’s forehead. They haven’t cleaned their mouths yet, but Akinori can feel Tatsuki’s want to kiss him anyway. Ducking low, Akinori bites Tatsuki’s chest, receiving the appropriate response against his thigh. He likes it when Tatsuki squirms.

“And this little bit of sunshine stops you from sleeping in with me?” Akinori murmurs hotly over Tatsuki’s chest.

“Absolutely not. Nothing could stop that. But in our autumn...I would have you trapped in the bed for hours. Here? There’s parties all the time, people waiting for us at breakfast,” Tatsuki tries to speak without moaning. He releases a deep sigh as Akinori’s hand caresses further down the stomach. Akinori laughs; they did have sleepless nights, and hardly any sex during the day. The marble kept the palace cool to a degree, but the bedding was unbearable at a certain point.

“If you don’t want to have breakfast or go to some of the seasonal parties, we can just request one of your cool baths and stay in the water. For hours, if you wish,” Akinori says, grinning. “But if my skin gets too wrinkly, you will never hear the end of it.”

Tatsuki looks at him, places another kiss on the forehead. “I will stop my complaining…Please know that I didn’t mean anything by it, Akinori.”

“Pfft, don’t worry. I would have complained all the time about so many things. I mean, if you miss anything specific, surely we can send an envoy and your brothers can prepare anything you need to send it back?” Akinori says, watching as a now more awake Tatsuki stares at him. The staring, he’s gotten so used to it. This one however carries a different meaning. Something contemplative passes Tatsuki’s eyes.

And then—despite the warmth entering the room and dappling their skin with sweat, despite them not having yet washes their mouths—Tatsuki rolls over and tackles Akinori, pinning him to the mattress for a kiss, then rolling once more to have Akinori lie windswept atop of him. Still pinned, as Tatsuki’s arms close around his spine in an iron-grip. His hand presses Akinori’s head down, and Tatsuki kisses his throat.

“I have all I need and more right here,” Tatsuki murmurs, and Akinori huffs a snort. He widens his legs to let his knees sink down either side of Tatsuki. They can trap each other here, just for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was a liiiiitle sad I couldn't have both birthdays in one chapter. But I always need to have my chapters somewhat the same-ish lengths, and not have one chapter be 16k and the other 5k :D!!!


	9. ...And their oaths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celebrations continue as Chrysanthensia's summer remains long and bright.
> 
> However, darkness brews far away from the fields and along the horizon. Oaths must be kept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINAL CHAPTER AHHHHHH!!!
> 
> I will also give you! Different povs!!! Very short alas but it was fun to bring someone else's viewpoint in C:
> 
> To all who have come this far, thank you for reading~ I hope you will like this final chapter .v.

On the day of Akinori’s birthday, Tatsuki wakes up to a few presents placed on his side of the desk. There are flower arrangements too, brought in during the early morning. They had made certain arrangements with the servants, and how to notify them when it was safe to either knock or enter silently.

Looking over to a still-sleeping Akinori, Tatsuki slips out to inspect them. Kyuuko is hooting softly, looking over the presents. She then pecks Tatsuki’s fingers.

“Yes, yes, I have not forgotten.” The owl had seen him work on Akinori’s gift; Akinori had sent her with a rather spicy message for Tatsuki, and Kyuuko had hooted appreciatively at Tatsuki’s handiwork as Tatsuki had tried to calm his face down.

From a drawer in his desk, Tatsuki picks up a large wooden owl carving. When Akinori found out that Tatsuki was a talented carver—but that he only used a specific bark from his homeland—he pouted that it would have been a good present to give during Tatsuki’s courtship. Vowing to have a nice carving done by the time Akinori’s birthday arrives, Tatsuki had requested the wood from his brothers. They sent very small owl creations of their own, including smaller wooden carvings, an origami owl, one made of pottery, and a mechanical owl that could fly. Tatsuki holds it all in his arms, looking over Akinori’s side of his desk; small paper foxes were lined up there, ready to be used for prayer. Akinori likes things on display, and Tatsuki would carve him foxes next year. A big one perhaps, to put in the corner of their room. 

After putting the homemade Washio presents in between the Konoha ones, Tatsuki turns around. 

“No worries. I’ll also give you the same attentive presents as you gave me,” Tatsuki says, letting his unheard words linger in the air. Knowing the distinction here between ‘gifts’ and ‘presents’, Tatsuki knew he could never surpass himself after the white tulip. Neither of them has large fortunes, or would order expensive things being made or shipped in from distant lands; they decided that no greater gift but their love would be a daily present, and a fulfillment of joy. Of course, there are so many things two of them could do to never allow boredom into their lives. Setting aside a plan he had for the night, Tatsuki turns to the bathing chamber.

He washes his face, cleans out his mouth, then dresses in light clothing. Tatsuki sighs as it still doesn’t feel cold at all. It’s nearly the end of the month too. Looking over Akinori’s sleeping form, and remembering the talk they had the other day, Tatsuki wouldn’t dare to dream of exchanging anything for just a few degrees of colder weather.

Outside on the corridor, he finds Motoya waiting. Rintarou was still sleeping too, or being mischievous. 

“Let’s go,” Motoya says, and they make their way out of the palace, past the stables, to a circle of dirt where no one could see Tatsuki’s training, or be frightened by the stunts he does. He wanted his present to Akinori to be a complete surprise, as a form of payback.

And secretly, Tatsuki wants to shock his husband a little more, just to honour his trickster and chaotic ways.

*

The day goes by as almost any other day. The guards and the people they come across all congratulate Akinori, and by extension, Tatsuki and their four friends as well. Akinori appears flustered but happy from the attention. Instead of a grand feast, he only wished for a big lunch, and of course for cake.

“Of all the things, I like the cakes the most. But also, I’m worried about the fat I’m gaining from all the sweet stuff here,” Rintarou says as the six of them make a dip into the kitchens. 

Tatsuki’s cake had been an utter surprise, but Akinori told him he’s requested the same cake for years. Plus, he likes to check in for the preparations. The kitchens welcome them heartily, all congratulating the prince. Akinori stalks right towards where the cake is almost done; one pastry chef is putting white peach parts into the ears, to bear resemblance to the white fluff. The fox has a multitude of orange and red-ish hues, with yellow and black paws, and a yellow tipped tail folding forwards. One tail. 

“Made entirely of peaches, nectarines, and apricots!” Akinori explains, as the head pastry man nods. “A cute and smug-looking fox. Don’t his eyes just look like they hold so much trickery?”

As the pastry chefs distract their friends by letting them try the cake filling (Rintarou’s earlier complaints conveniently forgotten) Tatsuki’s arm goes around Akinori’s hip. He pulls him closer, whispering into his ear, “Ah, so you know your own character very well.” 

He likes that little blush that appears high on Akinori’s cheekbones. Biteable, more delicious looking than anything else here. Likes to watch Akinori’s little kissable pout.

“Speaking of trickery...Where have you been going in the mornings? Haruka says she didn’t see you at the Stables,” Akinori asks in a low voice. Tatsuki wouldn’t ever lie to him. But he has to omit words, and the truth, for his surprise to stay one until tonight. “I mean...I kinda had hoped for some morning fun, you know? Your way of saying ‘happy birthday’. You haven’t told me yet.”

Bowing his head deeply to the side to kiss Akinori on the mouth, Tatsuki first apologizes.

“I am very sorry...In my quest to prepare something special, I have become super focused. Please know that I didn’t mean to leave you by yourself for as long as I did this special morning,” Tatsuki says, unhappy to watch Akinori’s pout remain. He was right; Tatsuki should have returned sooner and been the first to congratulate Akinori—in words, and their own special ways.

Tatsuki makes amends right away. He pulls Akinori into a quiet corner, then kisses him deeply.

“May your life span be long and filled with happiness, Konoha Akinori, only son of your line. I vow to be part of the creation of that happiness, as well as live with you throughout all the days to come.”

“Alright, that’s a good start,” Akinori says, half-pouting, half-smiling. Tatsuki presses their foreheads together.

“Your birthday lunch...how much time do we have?”

“Well! We still have to change clothes. Plus, I told you—we can never be late at an event in our honour. Everyone else is just going to be early.”

“Good.” The one word rumbles through Tatsuki’s chest, into his lips, down Akinori’s throat. He brings his tongue to lick around Akinori’s mouth, enjoying the heady exchange as Akinori’s tongue swirls past his. No one will think it strange if they go missing, and so Tatsuki allows himself to be pulled into a secret passage, through the dark, and into the corridor of where their chambers are. 

He takes pleasure in locking the door and feeling Akinori’s hands undress him from behind. Tatsuki allows his pants to be opened and ducks to let Akinori pull his upper garments off. But when he turns, Tatsuki takes Akinori’s hands in his, kissing every finger, every knuckle. They dance into their bed, with Tatsuki quickly undressing Akinori. He kisses the thighs, the stomach, then one long lick up and over the chest, dipping into Akinori’s swallowing throat.

“Any way you want it, I will do whatever you wish,” Tatsuki says, his heat covering Akinori’s. He presses his still-covered hips down upon the naked ones, rolls them forward and receives Akinori’s little moans as a response.

“Well, you have to apologize for congratulating me so late. Apologize _again_ for not telling me what you’re up to. _Actually_ congratulate me properly, and tell me you love me a hundred times over. One mouth can barely speak all the words I require to hear, so,” Akinori says, his eyes closed in pleasure. He finds Tatsuki’s black hair blindly, then pulls—guiding Tatsuki back down. As he does, Akinori’s knees lift to his chest, the soles of his feet settling on top of Tatsuki’s shoulder. To push where his hand can’t pull any further. 

Tatsuki grins wickedly, even if Akinori doesn’t witness it.

“Oh, I understand completely.” And those are the last words Tatsuki speaks, before his mouth travels between Akinori’s asscheeks—to give him all that and more. His hands cover Akinori’s, and their thumbs press together. Soon enough Akinori’s words dissolve into nothing but moans and Tatsuki’s name, and then a continued whine that goes on for minutes as Tatsuki’s licks Akinori’s ass all the way until he comes from it.

*

*

“Aaah, I am so excited! Tatsuki must have something special planned for me,” Akinori says, walking towards the newly appointed grounds on which Tatsuki requested a gathering. Little did his husband know that word had spread fast—over half the palace either staked out spots to overlook it, or otherwise gathered there.

“I’m looking forward to it too. And you have no clue?” Shikika says, holding her youngest daughter in her arms while her oldest runs forward. She’s greeted by all the guards with deep bows. As the sisters pass, they receive congratulations, and Akinori receives his unofficial title as chaos-bringer when he passes the guards. He had no clue, and it was good for Tatsuki that Akinori enjoys being surprised.

It was a small announcement he made at the end of the lunch. It was a normal affair for Akinori, who knew he never received many presents outside the family. The children of the houses had made him a matching flower crown though. Tatsuki had kept his own in their room, and Akinori told him they could let the flowers dry and use them as a decorative item in a vase. Tatsuki’s face had been so cute. _”You do enjoy your useless items in a vase, hm?” he says, then flicks the branch that was placed on Akinori’s desk._

_”I also like them encased,” Akinori replies, eyeing the white tulip. ”But most of all, I enjoy my favourite plaything naked on the bed, writhing under me in pleasure.”_

_If he’d tried to be seductive and smooth, Tatsuki’s wide grin ruins all that in seconds.”Good,” he answers. ”Then all will be, as it should be.”_

Akinori had been getting dressed for this little show Tatsuki had planned. Tatsuki himself hadn’t, and Suna had brought away clothes in secret. Before Akinori could try and pry the truth out of Tatsuki’s hints, the other man had left him to be picked up by his sisters. 

Akinori stalks through the halls faster. He was so ecstatic. Kyuuko had settled on the harness he put on when she had also wanted to come. Outside, the dusk was slowly colouring the palace in a darkish red—the colour of autumnal sunsets.

They make it past a crowd, which parts and bows at the same time for the sisters. Akinori doesn’t care one bit, couldn’t care as his heart surges forwards. His mother awaits him, her eyes bright and fun.

“None of my children have seen this...I was once invited to the anniversary wedding of King and Queen Washio. You are all in for a treat, and my gorgeous Akinori...you the most.” As she steps aside, Akinori’s bright smile locks in place. The people have formed a circle, and he notices first the wooden stakes and fire ablaze on them. On the other side of the circle, Suna and Komori hold each one stake, crossing it into a large X. Below it, and through the blaze, Akinori can only make out Tatsuki’s bare legs. He barely sees the naked arms through the smoke, nor his man’s face.

His body twitches, blood boiling to one place alone; muscle memory of when he was the veiled one, waiting for his prince at the first ball. Watching the Washio men walk forwards, mostly unclothed. And seeing Tatsuki emerge, all muscle and power, in black tulle that was native to Akinori’s home.

Silence falls over the watching crowd. Akinori wonders if Tatsuki sweats because of the closeness to the fires, or because he couldn’t have thought that half the palace would come to watch what he had planned to do. Queen Shichishoku puts her hands on her son’s shoulder and whispers. “Happiest of days my love. Do not move, do not be afraid. And enjoy!”

Then his mother, father and sisters all take a step back. Their people follow along, widening the circle.

In one quick move, Suna and Komori step away from the stakes, letting them fall to the ground—except that they are caught in the middle. Now Akinori truly thinks Tatsuki must be singing his hair, with how close the burning fires are to his head. All he sees however, is Tatsuki letting the stakes fly outwards, circling them. His back hunches up, already a sheen of sweat settled there. His hands bring the stakes down at an angle, breaking down their lower parts. As he circles the stakes, the fires twirl round and round. They spin, as Tatsuki stands up straight, showing this side of the crowd that he’s only wearing black trousers, cut off above the knee.

And the people see for the first time Tatsuki’s chest tattoo—the mountains flying down like an owl for its prey, into the valley formed like hands with sharp claws. Akinori hears Haruka’s soft cursing under her breath, but no further sound comes from his family. Perhaps they do say something, but Akinori cannot hear—he doesn’t sense anything but Tatsuki’s eyes on him. That feeling of being seen, unclothed by those dark eyes… That mesmerizing stare that doesn’t let you go, but commands you look away first. A smudgy and smokey powder once more adorned Tatsuki’s eyes, up to his brows. Unlike at the ball, and perhaps because of the fires and the all together different light, the makeup powder looks like coal. 

Akinori swallows dry air. He says nothing, as silence will always be Tatsuki’s strength.

One after the other, slow and precise, Tatsuki’s feet slide over the dirt patch. He moves like a god with all the time in the world, holding the flames aloft, then gently swinging them down without making a sound. He goes every wind direction, circling back and rounding out—he tiptoes to the middle again, and continues sliding from there to the other side. The people gasp, pointing at the floor, where soon a chrysanthemum flower appears in darker shades of dirt. Tatsuki tip-toes back to the front of the flower, his feet pointed, his thighs and calf muscles strong and taught. He throws one fiery stake in the air, catches it.

The people gasp but do not clap, no one dares to.

Tatsuki’s eyes return to Akinori, the fires blazing in front of his face one after the other, twirling around faster and faster. His face is beaded with sweat, so are his naked shoulders. The coal-like eye makeup stays perfectly in place. He’s almost in the middle of the circle, and must not want to disturb the flower he made behind him. 

Each step he takes forward feels as if a resounding boom could accompany it. He twists his body to the side, bringing the stakes flying over his body. Akinori’s skin becomes tight with fear, as he watches how close the flames come to Tatsuki’s chest, then to his knees when he stands up straight.

One stake flies up, swooshing round and round. With the other, Tatsuki drops low into a squat, on tiptoes again. He twirls around, his spine curving. He captures the stake as it comes down fast, then jumps up and backwards saltos with the stakes outstretched to the sides. After that, Akinori’s heart becomes a blur—it tries to keep up with the drums, as Suna and Komori have sat down to drum along with Tatsuki’s movements. He dances across the dirt patch, never touching the flower he created. The fires swing each way, going wide, then drawn back impossibly close. 

Slowly, Akinori notices, Tatsuki comes closer and closer to him. Even when his path brings him sideways; he comes steadily for Akinori. And he brings the heat along; Akinori starts to sweat, not just from fear watching Tatsuki play such a dangerous game with fire. He can’t even be afraid that his hair might get singed, or his clothes could catch fire. He’s so focused on the intensity in Tatsuki’s eyes; the same intensity he brings to everything else. That same deep darkness Akinori falls into, each time their bodies join together.

The hawkish features are right in Akinori’s face now. Around them, the fires circle in a continuous line. Akinori’s ears listen to the speed in which they spiral, sometimes close, sometimes further away. He doesn’t move. Tatsuki keeps his body taught too, only letting his arms and hands move the stakes. Swallowing, Akinori feels the speed of his heart thrum up his throat, down his legs, into his center. He’s not afraid; how could he be? Tatsuki would never hurt him; and the pain they could bring each other is closely bound to pleasure. It wouldn’t be meant for other people’s eyes to witness that. 

Akinori remains still, as the fires now fly over his head, past his arms. A brush of pain and death that never truly touches him or hurts him. A corner of Tatsuki’s mouth jumps up a single moment, then he’s gone; spinning his form through the air in elegant jumps, dancing to the beat of his friends’ drums. The stakes fly more rapidly up, and fall into his secure hands. The same hands that would hold Akinori, carry him, caress him, pin him down when they feel like it.

Holding his breath, Akinori watches as Tatsuki slows down all his movements. He turns on the spot, coming to face Akinori once more. One stake halts in front of him, the other behind him. Then he goes down to his knees and bows his head, letting the fires die in the dirt patch with a woosh.

Before anyone can even think of clapping, Tatsuki rapidly unfurls back up, swinging the now fireless stakes around him. He blows out all the fires, then throws the stakes to the ground. His back is on Akinori, showing every love bite and scratch of the past week. With pride, and honoured. Tatsuki’s face turns to his shoulder, his single eye looking at Akinori.

Promising him everything and more. _Later_.

The crowd waits a few seconds, then—cascading from the palace balconies and gardens first—rolls down a wave of hooting, clapping and calls of greatness. The circle joins in with thunderous applause. Tatsuki puts his hand flat on his shoulder and chest, giving them simple bows of gratitude. Akinori can’t move. He’s locked into place, his grin now wider than before. 

Suna and Komori are also praised for their musical assistance. Haruki claps slowly, stunned. Shikika hugs her brother’s shoulders, kissing the crown of his head.

“Prosperous days to you and him, little brother. May you enjoy many, many years like this.”

When the crowd releases Tatsuki’s attention, he walks slowly over to Akinori. Shikika is gone in an instant, moving towards Komori and Suna, with Yamato and Haruki in tow. Tatsuki’s body is just drenched in sweat, and Akinori grins, unable to imagine him any sexier.

“I’ll have you know, no one ever kneels in front of me,” Akinori says, making sure that no one but his intended hears. 

“You should be aware that going down on my knees for you gives me a joy beyond comprehension.” Tatsuki matches his wide grin with a wicked one himself. He places a warm hand on Akinori’s arm, and kisses his cheek. “I’m sorry...I must be gross… Let me take a bath first.”

Naturally, Akinori’s eyebrow arches up. “Oh, you will not make it that far, Tulip prince. I don’t think we will make it past the entrance of our door before I ravish you completely.”

“My sweet, isn’t that your usual mode of action?” Tatsuki says more straight faced, flirting shamelessly back and keeping his voice low. Akinori doesn’t care for the sweat, as he finds it a highly attractive look on his lover. When Tatsuki tries to retract his hand, Akinori catches it and wraps the entire arm around him. It shouldn’t be too hard an attempt to steal Tatsuki away. After all, it was his birthday. He gets to do what he wants.

And what he wants, plainly said as soon as the door closes, is for Tatsuki to ram him against it until it cracks.

*

*

“Oh, is that new? Do you need a door replacement, Prince Akinori?” Sarukui asks, pointing at the very visible crack at the door. Tatsuki watches in silence as Akinori reddens all the way, sputtering how it must be a drunken mishap. Sarukui quickly stops pointing, and never looks at the door again.

Motoya softly tells him, “Never. Ask. Not knowing is bliss.”

The tenth month starts with the six of them gathered in front of the wardrobe half belonging to Rintarou. He looks over to his winter clothes longingly. Given that the men of the mountain had scarcely prepared for the warmer seasons here, Motoya and Rintarou are getting new outfits made. Despite getting his measurements taken, as some outfitters look at inspiration into the wardrobe, Rintarou turns back again.

“Over half my usual garments and style...Useless here…” he says, making Komi snort. The latter had been the main mockster of Rintarou’s outfits, which didn’t vary day by day.

“Useless for just another month! The next will bring the cold you so wantonly desire,” Akinori laughs, louder and louder.

That laugh. Tatsuki still smiles along when he hears it. He has gotten used to dressing more revealing and light. Tatsuki still smiles as a noise gets his attention. 

It dies when he sees that it is Barkbeak, who raps up a storm against the window panes. Motoya stands up at once, and Rintarou leaves his dresser behind; their faces blanche.

“Guys, whats up?” Sarukui asks, but the lightheartedness is not found in his voice anymore. Akinori gets up too, following Tatsuki to the window. He has to do his best not to break it open. Barkbeak was trained to alert the people he carries messages to, whenever a particular message is of grave importance. The speed at which his beak now raps the windowsill makes Tatsuki’s heart drop down and through the earth. 

The window opens, and Barkbeak caws. He holds his leg out for Tatsuki to retrieve the note tied around there. It’s covered with the red seal.

“Oh no,” Motoya says, knowing what it means.

“Uh…are you guys okay?” Komi asks, unsure. Akinori comes to Tatsuki’s side, not even trying to read the message. Tatsuki looks at him, glad he has him. He lets his free hand be captured by Akinori’s, feeling himself grounded. Akinori doesn’t pry, doesn’t react too hysterically. Tatsuki holds his hand when he repeats the message.

“Bandits from the south. A large horde is coming to the mountains. They want the tulips, or they will wage war on us.”

Watching with his heart unable to beat normally, unable to hold back the panic from being so far away, Tatsuki watches Akinori’s head swivel to his friends.

“Komi, notify Haruka first. Sarukui, tell my mother that the Nine-tails are swirling. Then get my father and the council ready,” he says, tightening his grip around Tatsuki’s hand, who watches the two run off without hesitation. Tatsuki doesn’t understand what's happening, only knowing that he must leave. But can he leave Akinori behind? He looks down on the message. His father didn’t tell him to come. Didn’t tell him to stay away. 

“We have to go, right?” Rintarou asks, his brows furrowing. “That’s…I cannot believe the bandits mobilized to bring a horde.”

Tatsuki’s voice doesn’t tremble. “They say it’s a horde nearly doubling our forces.”

Akinori snorts through his nose. Three pairs of eyes look at him at once.

“What, I know the bandits from the south. They could never raise 5000.”

Motoya tilts his head to the side. “No, perhaps not. But our people are just around 3000. Even with the advantage of the high ground—” he doesn’t get to finish, as Akinori steps up loudly to him. He puffs his chest up, crosses his arms over it.

“3000? I am sorry, are you not forgetting the people my city and the valley can raise up? We will topple those bastards with ease, and we will fight from two sides as well. I mean, Haruka will have to come up with a plan, naturally,” Akinori says, interrupted only by Komi rushing back in.

“Got them all alerted! We’re gathering in 10 minutes in the courtroom. Haruka…she sent out three hairdressers working on her hair to get the generals as well. And your father—Saru says he’s already drafting messages to the far corners of our realm.”

“Good, very good! Komi, I want you there as well. But help me remember that we need war-outfits. I want us to have the combined banner of house Tulip and the Chrysanthemum line on it all! Don’t these bandits know we joined together? Well, if they don’t, we will teach them.”

It all goes so fast. Tatsuki takes Akinori’s pulse. He knows the T is there. He remembers the Blood Oath. And yet he cannot believe what Akinori is doing, what he is saying. What he is meaning to do.

He receives Akinori’s bemused face. “What? Did you think I was making that oath as a joke or to see your surprised face? Well, the latter part was definitely worth it. But I meant what I said, Tatsuki. I told you,” Akinori says, holding both of Tatsuki’s trembling hands in his. “‘For as long as I live, I shall bring catastrophes,’ my birth brought it, and my rage will bring it too. And it will turn on those who dare to threaten your home lands. I might be a son of my line, but I have my own strengths. They’re rightfully yours, naturally so.”

Naturally. His new family repeats it over and over again, promising it to Tatsuki.

The council’s decision comes with ease and not much debate. It washes over him; Tatsuki chooses to stay silent. He can only nod as the Queen tells him the details. Haruka, for one, storms off from the table as soon as she gets the clear to get half their forces from the city. Akinori’s father returns to writing his letters, making sure the other half will come from the reserve across the country. He passes Tatsuki and stops.

“Your father might not have thought of this as needed within our union agreements. But my son swore you an oath. As his father, as his family, we naturally will have to help to keep it.”

“We cannot leave our own realm unattended. But do not worry, Tatsuki my son. With Haruka and Akinori, you and yours won’t need much else,” Queen Konoha says, her smile secretive. He wants to tell them that none of this is necessary. Before he can, Natsuko nudges him.

“We pledge our help, brother-in-law. You can count on it.”

*

*

Suna and Komori watch on as the palace mobilizes itself to ready the trip. Haruki laughs, making sure they move along and don’t forget to pack whatever they need. The dressers worked with speed, tirelessly. All four men wear the princes’ combined banner on their back, the emblem over their heart, and it’s covering their knees and elbows too.

“Hey, I know. You’d think we’re just some players. But Haruka wouldn’t let her people be defenceless or weak. No second daughter would allow that to ever happen,” Haruki says. His eyes glint with looking forward to an unseen sight, brought on lands far, far from home.

*

*

He is a bit nervous, but Yamato knows it's more because of the things he had to pack for Akinori. He cannot remember if he packed the autumn obi, or the spring one. They’re so alike… In their trunks are fox masks for battle, and colourful hakamas for what Akinori plans to do. He already holds his dagger tight in his hands. Yamato catches Komori looking at it several times, without comment. Smiling to Suna and Komori, who have become his friends in the time together, he shakes his head, then winks.

_Do not ask, we shall not tell._

*

*

“Why does it feel so different than all the past skirmishes?” Rintarou asks, unloading. He looks on as the forces of the Chrysanthemum line set up tents on the plains. Home. And yet not home. They’d made their nest elsewhere, and yet would come to call if their old country needs them. Rintarou looks up to the mountains. He wished he’d seen them under different circumstances. 

“I don’t know. They’re all so…relaxed. No one is tense, nor afraid,” Motoya says, eying the people passing them by. “Also, I don’t think that prince Akinori brought any weapons for himself. He has only that dagger.”

Rintarou snorts, holding his shield. The feeling of unease doesn’t leave him. He doesn’t ask what one dagger is going to do against bandits. Whatever that fox prince is planning, Rintarou guesses no mountain-born being is even remotely ready for it. He hadn’t even thought that any of the Chrysanthensians would be happy for a battle. There’s no bloodlust here, but it equally misses the tension before a fight. Stranger and stranger still.

“We learn something new every day,” Rintarou muses. Somehow he begins to feel calm too.

*

*

They take their usual places; Rintarou is Tatsuki’s left hand man, standing on his left, and Motoya is on his right. Komi and Sarukui stand next to him, grinning. Motoya grips his own left hand tightly on Tatsuki’s shoulder, while Rintarou has his own right hand on Tatsuki’s other shoulder. It takes their combined strength and presence to keep Tatsuki’s feet here, between them. Motoya’s heartbeat races, watching with growing concern as a lone Akinori walks down the plains. He follows the path the carriages would have taken. The wide sleeves of his kimono and the wide pants of his hakama billow in the wind.

He doesn't falter, he doesn’t hesitate. Not as the largest bandit horde since the last Petal War rises up between them and the mountains. Motoya now wishes he had a god he could pray to as well, for Akinori’s safety. The bandits howl with laughter, making indecent movements and motions towards Akinori. 

If anything, Motoya is afraid. Akinori holds nothing up his large sleeve apart from a single small dagger. He wears a fox mask, but what’s that helping when an arrow catches his neck? The bandits aren’t afraid though. No one would be, seeing one single soldier who isn’t even dressed like one walk up halfway to them.

On Akinori’s back is the combined banner of their royal families. Queen Musertia’s idea, come back alive during times of crisis. 

“Bloody petals,” Motoya breathes out, as to the mountain-trio’s surprise, with their people watching from above, Akinori starts to dance. He looks at Tatsuki again, whose scowl seems even more fear-inspiring with the addition of their homeland’s usual black powdered war makeup. Rintarou’s expression is one of surprise, his blackened eyes having a light grey line on the bottom. Motoya brings his own blackened eyes back to the dance. He blinks, knowing that crying won’t disturb the makeup Rintarou put on all of them. 

*

*

He holds the unsheathed blade aloft. Tatsuki would be entranced by this, if it weren’t for the all-consuming fear thrumming under his skin. His Akinori, alone in the plains. The bandits have fallen silent after the first movements, but they start laughing again. 

No one behind Tatsuki is even smiling. He doesn’t scan their faces, but he feels it. Their silence is revered. Their voices repeat the prayers that Akinori sings up to the sky. Words too ancient to be understood by foreign ears.

He turns his back on the bandits. Akinori’s face is hidden behind the fox mask. Tatsuki’s eyes drop to where Akinori takes up his sleeve. He brings down the tip of his dagger, and reopens the old scar. He rewrites the T. Tatsuki’s throat thickens, guessing that the knife surely wasn’t kept in a bowl of tulip water overnight. It won’t heal as easily a second time, not unless Tatsuki will have a tulip within grasp after the battle. 

How can he think of that already… Tatsuki’s heart beats louder, not knowing where the rush of confidence comes from.

Behind Tatsuki, the Chrysanthemum people repeat the Blood Oath.

“For as long as I live, I shall bring catastrophes to your enemies.”

But they say something else, too. “For as long as our lands are blessed with a son who is faithful to our queen, her daughters, and our goddess, catastrophes will forever find you.”

Akinori raises the bloodied knife, bloodied twice now. He turns to the bandits, holding it aloft. He twists it around, and it’s out of sight. From his sleeve fall petals; he twirls around, like the drunken Akinori Tatsuki tackled that one night. Like the Akinori who danced on his birthday as well. The petals scatter in the wind, if there even was a wind here...

And Tatsuki’s blood freezes as he watches them circle as if guided by sudden gust; they spiral around Akinori, with the clock—

“He made a vow to you, Prince Tatsuki,” Komi says softly. “He told us he didn’t intend to break it.”

—and against.

From the people, Haruka and Shikika come slowly forward. Shikika brought her first daughter too. They wear fox masks as well, different in form and colours. Their heads rise to the cloudy heavens above.

“Your people…Our people now too. They are in for a treat, youngest Washio son and brother-in-law,” Haruka says, her eyes never once leaving the sky. Tatsuki looks back at Akinori. Seeing him dance, seeing that combined emblem on his back. 

Knowing the tattoo inked there below the fabric, having kissed it so often now…Tatsuki feels his fears fade. His chest rises with security, with being so sure. Underneath his own clothes he feels the strength of the mountain inked into his skin as he breathes in deeply. How the tattoo sinks into the valley, and he breathes out. The memories of Akinori’s fingers tracing them at random moments. As their friends bore their new emblem on the clothing, Akinori and Tatsuki would ink that emblem into their skin on their first wedding anniversary. 

Akinori wasn’t sure where to put it yet, jokingly mentioned that if he got hurt today, he’d cover the scar up with the tattoo.

It was no joking matter to Tatsuki—but it was his Akinori who said those words with a confident smile. 

Tatsuki’s voice is a breath on the wind. “I love you, Akinori.”

Their love was invincible. 

As soon as he thinks it, the gathered clouds blush a familiar orange glow. 

“By all the bloody petals in the world,” he hears Rintarou gasp, as his friends look upwards as well. Tatsuki wonders what his father and brothers must think and feel in this moment. If they are proud of the allegiance they made. He hears Haruka smile broadly, Shikika saying, “There she is”.

Through the now orange glowing clouds, sharp nails and paws white in colour pierce through. Furry legs a brilliant orange are plainly visible as the wide hakama pants billow as the figure descends. The clouds disappear where the form of a giant fox woman, the very same Tatsuki had witnessed on the second night of being married to Akinori. The mountains with his people fall silent. The bandits have nothing more to say or howl, as they too are looking up in shock.

The fox goddess' feet touch down behind Akinori. Loose sand on the plains ripples out from their center. The petals that rose up, drop back down.

 _ **“Asking me if I kept count, little foxy boy? Why, naturally I have! 999 prayers of the son born to my 99th Queen. No mortal is allowed to believe that the 1000th prayer would bring me here. Foolish idiots…For that insolence,”**_ the heavenly sweet voice Tatsuki only heard once drops into a smug, all-too familiar drawl. **_“I brought a friend…”_**

The fox goddess says, her voice out loud and in their minds. One of her tails swings once like a whip. It cracks like thunder, making the dark clouds up ahead the mountains break. But she doesn’t bring the flood, nor lightning, nor a storm. As the thunder echoes over the plains, it is followed by the beating of wings.

Shivers run down Tatsuki’s spine. From atop the mountains the storm clouds part. Ash falls, like the ash of the stories that coloured their mountains the way they are now. But the ash never lands; it becomes shadow, then feathers. A golden beak opens, one long solemn hooting sound crossing the plains. It sings a solemn song of war and death, and Tatsuki recognizes it as their war song; sung before the great peace entered the lands. He hears Rintarou whisper.

“Unblooming flowers...It can’t be…” 

The goddess steps aside. Akinori is so far ahead, but Tatsuki sees his fox mask turn to their forces. He snaps his fingers once, and the goddess yips and yaps, her tails swinging violently. Akinori stays untouched, as his hair and hakama is caught within this new storm. 

And the Dark One descends on their enemies behind Akinori. Tatsuki feels his friends’ hands lift off his shoulders. Their entire force moves as one. From the mountains, spears and arrows rain down. Kyuuko rushes past in flight, her wings and head covered in metal armour. Her talons bear metal too, and she lands on Akinori’s harnessed shoulder.

Akinori stays right where he is, his mask now to the side. He smiles, holding his bloodied hand out to Tatsuki.

_’Come my love, let’s fight together.’_

Haruka is faster than him, and Rintarou—always able to use his spear as a pole—vaults himself where the fight was thickest to threaten anyone’s lives from above. Motoya stays at Tatsuki’s side, and they soon join up with Akinori. He retrieves a small bow and arrows from the folds of his kimono, and Tatsuki has no time to blink, to question, nor to say anything. He and Akinori fight side by side; Akinori takes down people with his bow and arrow, sometimes dropping them to quickly stab someone or slice a throat with the dagger. 

Tatsuki swings his broadsword through the air. He feels the rush of wind, and above him the Dark One flies overhead. In his claws he carries corpses. Tatsuki concentration returns to the ground. Rintarou expertly takes down several people at once with his spear and his shield, not allowing the horde to come near them all at once. They’re surrounded, but nothing matters as the fox goddess’ tails strike; she causes earthquakes that leave the earth under Tatsuki’s feet whole and unshaken. She calls down hail, and they knock down several bandits. And when she dances over them, Tatsuki feels the rush of her golden orange glow light a fire in his heart.

Akinori is by his side, smiling wildly. His eyes glow too. It’s fainter than what Tatsuki notices in Haruka’s eyes. And yet it's there. Bloody and a mess, Tatsuki takes a moment to stand still and marvel at the beauty in front of him. His sword is heavy, and he lets it soak in the soft earth of the plains. Akinori looks at him, then uses his sleeve to wipe clear blood from Tatsuki’s cheek and chin. Then he leans forward to kiss Tatsuki on his lips. Loving and sweet, as if the world around them isn’t going to burn down to ashes.

And in the next second, time speeds up. Tatsuki swings his sword back, beheading a fool trying to come for him from behind. He sees rintarou with a raised spear behind him, twirling it around and turning with a smile when Tatsuki already took care of it himself.

Further ahead, the bandits never make it even close to the mountains. Tatsuki hears his second oldest brother yell the commands to fire; burning arrows and acid-laden spears leave no one alive. And every time parts of the large horde fall, the Dark One flies through them. Taking care of all the dead, with his own reasons in mind. Tatsuki honours his blood oath when he notices several men trying to take down Akinori. Haruka is always close to her little brother, but she lets Tatsuki protect him when he needs it. 

Unbeatable, they take down anyone daring to cross their paths. 

Soon enough, Tatsuki lets his sword sink again. He looks around, seeing how Akinori’s people—his people now too—dismantle the rest of the bandits. Even if the blows aren’t killing, the Dark One swoops them up for himself.

There’s no battle cheer. It wasn’t in their nature, but even the Chrysanthemum people remain silent. Then Tatsuki notices how they all step aside, making a circle around him wider and wider. He blinks. Akinori walks over to him, his hakama bloodied and blood spatters mixing in with his makeup. He smiles though, and takes the hilt of Tatsuki’s sword. He leans up to kiss Tatsuki’s cheek.

“I really like that you only have eyes for me,” Akinori says, and Tatsuki notices the orange glow upon one Akinori’s right side. Silent, Tatsuki turns his head around. The goddess stands there, smiling as well. Tatsuki thinks the way she looks at him resembles his father’s pride in him. That stoic way that wasn’t stoic enough to keep a smile from forming. The goddess favoured daughters after all. And yet she came when a boy called for her.

 ** _“Hail and well-met, Petal princes,”_** she calls down to them. Tatsuki feels himself as still as on the second wedding night. He doesn’t move when the goddess lowers herself. He hears a familiar sound behind him; the motions of many take a knee to bow in front of her. Tatsuki hopes that Rintarou and Motoya join in, but he can’t turn around to check. 

The Vixen’s hands run under the plains, softening the earth. Tatsuki doesn’t breathe, his grasp on the sword hilt tightens; he feels Akinori’s fingertips, and calms. The goddess lifts them up, turning slowly to make sure they do not fall. Then she carries them towards the mountains. 

Tulip banners lower at her arrival; Tatsuki notices that from where they were picked up, a spot of green emerges. Akinori leans against him, murmuring that a piece of the goddess will now always be here in this realm too. A mark of their petal allegiance. Tatsuki’s ears rush with the wind as he comes closer and closer to his home, his people, his family. The goddess lifts her hand so that Tatsuki can look his father in the eye.

In the manner of their house, the father and brothers exchange a stoic nod, which Tatsuki returns unsmiling. Only Lisa the battle goat bleats out loud. She’s in full armour, and Onaga adorned her with a grey and dark blue flower crown. He looks upset that Lisa didn’t get to show off her skills, but like the rest, he keeps silent and wide-eyes looking up to the goddess.

Akinori sighs. “Dear petals save me, you really know how to be dramatic and talkative!” He smiles, his arm around Tatsuki’s elbow. “It isn’t my place at all but perhaps you could add a holiday per year? Dedicate it to your god. I only asked the fox goddess for protection. She brought the owl god, but he wouldn’t have come if this realm meant nothing to him. He might have died, but you’re his people. You should show him respect, at least once a year,” Akinori laughs over the mountains, his voice echoing in the cliff leading up to where Tatsuki’s old home is.

His family betrays nothing on their faces. Akinori sighs, then looks up to his goddess. “I tried.”

She smiles back at him, as Tatsuki turns to look at her too. 

**_“They know,”_** she says, her ethereal voice like warmth. From behind her, the Dark One makes one last round, then flies up to the skies. They open with a crackle of thunder. Everyone watches him leave; how his feathers become shadows, and how his form changes to blue-black smoke before it merges the clouds.

 ** _“He doesn’t want anything from the mountains. He’s offered his gifts and his own protection. But do try and remember him. Think of him. Thank him every once in a while,”_** the goddess says, and Tatsuki bows his head, knowing that his family, the fighters and the court would do the same. Thanking her for the sage advice. As there doesn’t seem much more to say, she turns around with Akinori and Tatsuki in her hands full of dirt. Akinori’s hand squeezes Tatsuki’s arm.

“Are you sure you don’t want to spend some time here?” Akinori asks, and Tatsuki looks straight ahead as the sun starts to set over the plains.

“When I come back, with you and your family…it will be on a happy day, unmarked by death and destruction,” Tatsuki says. He looks at Akinori; how the plains behind him stretch out forever. They’re so high up, and yet the true vertigo Tatsuki feels comes only from looking at those eyes. His fingers brush over Akinori’s blood smeared face. “I know you’re a vain creature, Akinori. And you only want the best. Not the second best. Not something that isn’t grand. I will only give you what you deserve, and for that…I want your experience of seeing where I grew up to be special, too.”

The fox goddess puts them back down. Tatsuki holds onto Akinori’s hand as they jump off the dirt patch in her hands. Everyone bows down to one knee, and this time Tatsuki sees that his friends join in, their faces smudged and bloodied. The goddess wrings the earth between her hands, and her eyes become solid white and orange. At once, the dirt on everyone’s clothes is gone. Rintarou and Motoya blink down, then look up to her again. Tatsuki looks at her too.

“Was it...really the 1000th prayer?” Tatsuki asks, and the fox ears tilt to one side.

 ** _“I am a goddess, I do not keep count of such matters. But it sounded imposing, did it not?”_** The goddess says, and her people chuckle along and agree with her.

The goddess' voice resounds in Tatsuki’s head. **_‘The women of my land are strong. They don’t need a man. But I build in the fail safe anyway. If an era has certain needs or perilous tasks, a son will be born. He will have no gifts, no powers, no authority. But, born into a women household, he can learn the grace and the burden of being a woman. Naturally, he’d grow up to respect his mother and his sisters. Not all are capable of praying or dancing, and it’s up to them, always. And yet…I promised the first queen this from the start; if my bloodline calls to me, I will come to their aid. If my daughters need me, I shall give what I have. And if it’s a son who has shown himself worthy, and he gets my attention, I might come as well.’_**

Sense returns to him. Tatsuki notices the sounds around him, the air shifting. The fox goddess has gone, and Akinori’s hands play with Tatsuki’s shoulders.

“Dear grief, fighting is exhausting! I demand a piggyback, dearest darling husband of mine,” Akinori moans, and despite his own sore muscles, Tatsuki smiles and bends his knees to carry Akinori to the tents. Komi is carried between Sarukui and Moroya, while Rintarou appears impeccably clean already. He grins to Tatsuki.

“You know my legs never shake in battle, but damn that goddess was something else.”

Motoya nods. “I’ve never seen a god before…and now we have seen two!”

Akinori laughs outrageously loud over Tatsuki’s head. “Ahahaha, that’s the Chrysanthemum realm for you!”

“We aren’t in the valley, Akinori,” Sarukui sighs, and Komi kicks him with his good leg. 

“Let him brag!”

They laugh, but Tatsuki turns silent to Akinori. “You should have told me you’d re-open the wound. I have to find tulip petals and heal you…”

Akinori smiles warmly. “I don’t think I need it. Look,” Akinori shows his wrist. It’s as healed as on the second day of their marriage. Tatsuki wonders, but as he’s seen today, Akinori has so many tricks up his sleeve. And then he thinks of the white tulip in their chambers. Their home.

“Let’s go back, my love.”

*

*

The royal line greets them back like war heroes. Fuyuko is clapping the loudest. His mother hugs Akinori close, speaking blessings and fortunes into his hair. She then opens her arm up to let Tatsuki join as well.

“Did she come?” she asks, and Akinori beams up.

“Mother, she did. And she brought the owl god from the mountains as well. The one who used to live in our deepest forest,” Akinori says, knowing it would be impossible to keep that a secret. Tatsuki smiles, and they hold hands as they re-enter the palace. The line of Chrysanthemum is very interested in the owl god, and Tatsuki promises audibly he will tell the story at their next social gathering.

Haruka takes most of the battle credit, but she does pay respects to Suna’s and Komori’s skills as well. 

“Very good fighters! Come to the stables more often, will you? I need more practice.”

Akinori reprimands his sister as he goes up the step. Tatsuki is already a few steps ahead, with their hands still together. “Haruka! Don’t just demand the presence of them like that. Sheesh,” he says, continuing up the stairs. Komori just says thanks, and Suna is already halfway up the second flight. “I’m sorry about that. She can be so? Insane sometimes.”

Tatsuki laughs, then kisses Akinori’s cheek. They cleaned up their faces, and their outfits, to not bring blood onto palace grounds.

“Did you…hear what the goddess said? Before she left, I mean,” Tatsuki asks when they’re in the corridor leading to their quarters. Akinori had been waiting for this question. He shakes his head. 

“Whatever she had to say was just for you I suppose. She tends to be whimsical like that.”

“Did you know she’d come?”

“I know nothing of her whims. All I could do is what I do best, hope and pray. She was stunning though, right!?”

Tatsuki nods. He squeezes Akinori’s hand, still wanting to say more. Akinori squeezes back. “Whatever she told you, you don’t have to tell me if it’s something personal.”

“…I was wondering. If your sisters had done what you did, she’d come right?”

Akinori shrugs. “We cannot know for sure, not ever. She might believe her line strong enough to fend for herself. Or send other types of help. To be honest, I hadn’t thought she'd arrive in all her glory. I was thinking of battle advantages, right up to the point I started the dance. But then…my prayer just became one word; protection. I asked for the protection of your family, the mountains. Protection of lives on our side, that everyone would get home safe. We didn’t lose a single life. And I asked for your protection, too. The way she chose to give that help was up to her completely. But it’s very much like our goddess to put on a show and go all out!”

They arrive at their door, which Suna has opened before going back into his shared room with Komori. Yamato and Haruki were at the infirmary for Haruki's leg, who refused the tulip treatment back at the camp. Tatsuki sighs, putting his arm around Akinori’s shoulder as they enter. He uses his sword to close the door.

“I do think my father and brothers will come up with something. To honour the owl god, and to also honour the fox goddess. She left that patch of green, after all.”

Akinori smiles softly, starting to undress Tatsuki. He has to get a head start on the onslaught of belts, after all. Even with their court dresses designing the clothes, Tatsuki had made sure they would still be the way he likes them best. Standing still, he closes his eyes now, as Akinori’s hands brush the skin he reveals.

“That would be nice. I hope I wasn’t too forward…”

Grinning, Tatsuki takes Akinori’s hands in his. He turns, letting garments fall to the floor. He’s half naked and perfect, and Akinori’s eyes glance downwards once. Tatsuki’s feet step within his, and he kisses Akinori’s lips most tenderly instead.

“But Aki, you know I do enjoy it so much when you’re forward…” Tatsuki whispers, now his turn having come to remove the clothes from Akinori’s frame. He deepens the kiss, to which Akinori can only tilt his head back and accept all there is. Their bodies become closer and closer the more skin is revealed. Akinori’s hand helps Tatsuki get rid of his pants, and as his own are undone, they walk carefully to the bed. Tatsuki’s hands rush down to Akinori’s bare ass, lifting him up and against the broad wooden pillar of their four poster bed.

The kiss has become more intense, and neither feels the need to converse as the heat from it flows down their veins and into their hips, pooling in their guts as their bodies meet. Akinori’s legs curl around Tatsuki’s waist, and he moans out loud when Tatsuki guides himself into him.

The wooden pillar might get damaged in the process, but Tatsuki’s force knows no stopping when he sinks into Akinori; like they’ve done a hundred times before, and will do one thousand times over and over again.

Akinori’s fingers stay curled around Tatsuki’s neck. He opens his eyes, watching Tatsuki’s form darken as the light outside hits him from behind. He’s tall, dark and handsome, and above all, Akinori’s to keep. Whoever wanted to come between could try, Akinori thinks, smiling more and more; he bites his bottom lip with pleasure, listening to Tatsuki’s feet shuffling closer, and the wooden frame of his bed shaking with their acts without even lying in the bed.

“I have no gifts, Tatsu…no powers at all. But all that I do have…it belongs to you,” Akinori sighs out as Tatsuki slows his pace, to thrust himself deep and hard into Akinori. Tatsuki’s forehead leans onto his now, eyes fluttering close. Tatsuki comes deep inside him, staying there for some time. His hand covers Akinori’s cock, then slowly resumes kissing him and getting him off. 

“You’re the greatest gift to my world, Akinori. And I will always belong to you as well.”

*

*

Barkbeak enters this country that is no longer stranger to him than peaks he hails from. His flight down the valley brings him past snakes nesting, owls sleeping high in branches, and horses neighing to him in welcome. Past the stables, his wings up harder and harder. The palace is known to the bird, and he brings his message with ease to the Queen’s table.

He watches her happy gesticulating to her husband, making him read the letter too. Barkbeak squeaks to the King’s horse, not always present at ceremonies or food gatherings, as the horse was much more unruly and less easily trained than the birds from the mountain.

Queen Konoha ties the message around Barkbeak’s foot again. “I am sure the boys would like to read it themselves.” And so Barkbeak’s talons hop off the table to fly out of the room, careful not to upset the Queen’s papers. From here, it is an easy glide around the palace walls, and down into the open windows of the princes. 

Barkbeak finds his master’s youngest son sleeping in, his arm wrapped around the flower boy he loves so much. 

Careful, Barkbeak settles on the table beside the bed; Tatsuki’s eyes open at once. He strokes Barkbeak’s head, then unties the letter. He reads over it once, a soft smile spreading to his ears. When he starts kissing Akinori awake, Barkbeak finds his work here done. He will fly over to Rinrin and Moto—the first always carried little snacks, and the latter’s constant appetite ensured the presence of food at any hour.

On his way out, he finds Kyuuko drowsing in a nest built here just for her sake. She wakes at hearing his wings this time, and the birds regard each other—knowing that the bond of the mountain giant and the valley sprite has awoken once more, now humanized and safe within the two petal princes. Lovers spread apart by earthquakes and catastrophes, finally united again.

*

*

It takes long for Akinori to wake up. Tatsuki, usually the patient one, bites his cheek. When he hears Akinori murmur and groan, he resumes the softer kisses once more.

“Word from my father,” Tatsuki says, and Akinori rolls onto his back, still not opening his eyes.

“If it’s bandits again, I’m going to send my father, Gigant, and my grandmother’s second sister.”

“No, it’s not that. The path you walked, the patch of green the Vixen left. My father has named it the Chrysanthemum Path of Victory. And we’re building a small shrine for the Dark One,” Tatsuki says, lifting his arm when Akinori rolls further into his chest.

“That sounds amazing...when we visit, I’ll be sure to honour it. But now please...let me sleep,” Akinori says, kissing Tatsuki’s chest before bumping his forehead against it. Tatsuki exhales a silent snort, hugging him tight. The note of his father is placed on the bedside table. He feels awake, but not eager to leave the bed, or indeed the warm body in his arms. Settling his head on the pillow, Tatsuki looks into the room without truly seeing it. A renewed calm washes over him in waves. He likes all of this; his life and how it has taken a new form over the past months.

Akinori, back in the land of dreams, murmurs Tatsuki’s name in his sleep. Closing his eyes, Tatsuki lets every part of his body connecting to Akinori sink in deeper. He loves this the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So together with the basics of the wedding, I knew I'd have this skirmish in it.
> 
> But honestly adding the goddess??? that kinda rocked me. I had a million goosebumps writing her descending and bringing a friend, and kept having goosebumps whenever I was reviewing that section~
> 
> Thank you for reading it all! I hope it was enjoyable QQ Again, I understand people's reasons to leave a comment, so I'm really fine if its just keysmashes~ I of course also accept very long comments (life blood TT), but honestly any comments are appreciated C:
> 
> (as long as they're respectful and don't just ask for more ahahaha)


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